You Look Better In Pearls
by Team Damon
Summary: She's starting over, but he's haunting her - his voice, his face, his memory - and one night, just when she's starting to think she's losing it, she finally discovers the truth. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I find myself incapable of resisting this ship. Well, I can't really resist anything regarding Nolan's trilogy, so yeah, I had to get this out of my system. Sorry for the quickly-becoming-cliched thing about the pearls - I couldn't help myself :) let me know what you think! I could continue this if enough people wanted me to, otherwise I'll just keep it a oneshot. :)**

Two things Selina was sure of: first, that she was being watched, and second, that she was losing it.

Being hyperaware of her surroundings was one of the key reasons why she was still alive today, and the fact that she was no longer being hunted did not erode her skills one bit. She was still always armed, always a step ahead, and always sensing a pair of eyes on her everywhere that she went.

She was trying to make an honest living for once in her life - sort of - having hopped on a plane to Italy after successfully wiping her name from every database in the world, but old habits die hard and her job at a Florence art gallery was more of a nuisance than anything. But it was the only place where she usually didn't feel the distinct and unnerving sensation of being watched, and it paid the bills for the modest flat she'd acquired. She didn't even feel truly alone in her own home most of the time.

She chalked it up to residual paranoia from the hellish situation she'd survived in Gotham only a few months ago. But she tried not to think of it often, because it forced her to deal with the other things ailing her mind - specifically, the fact that she saw _his_ face. Everywhere.

It had all started on the flight to Italy, when the sound of the pilot speaking over the intercom nearly made her jump out of her skin. The pilot's voice sounded just like _his_ voice, uncannily so - but she shook her head and ignored the odd feeling spreading through her veins. He was gone, and really, she had no reason to care. So she'd kissed him twice - big deal. She'd also betrayed him and used him for purely selfish reasons. Then she'd ignored her every instinct and stayed in Gotham to save him, when she could have fled and been safe. Now he was dead. She had no reason to grieve.

But she still tried to get a look at the pilot once they'd landed and she was stepping off. All she saw was the back of the man's head as he sat in the cockpit, hidden behind sleek dark brown hair, before someone from behind her protested and she realized she was holding up the line. She forced her eyes away and scolded herself for being foolish. He was gone. She didn't care. _Move on_.

But then she began seeing his face. Whether it was a glimpse as she walked down the street or a double take at someone through the window of a car as she sped past them, it happened nearly always once a day, and after weeks of this, she was truly beginning to fear for her sanity.

Maybe it was some sort of post-traumatic stress thing, but she doubted it - she wasn't traumatized. It also so happened that she always felt as if she was being watched when she would see his fleeting face, and as soon as he disappeared, so did the feeling. At first she hadn't noticed how the two were correlated.

Maybe he had a doppelgänger that lived here in Italy. Maybe the sight of any tall, dark haired man with similar bone structure was enough to trick her mind into thinking she was looking at a dead man. Maybe there was a reason why her mind would play such tricks on her.

_Ridiculous_, she would quickly scoff. Even if she _had_ felt anything for the man - and she wasn't about to acknowledge that she felt anything bordering on something real - it didn't matter now, and she knew better than to grasp at ghosts.

So it was with determination that she left for the art gallery one late afternoon, dressed in her best black dress for the ritzy showcase she would be working, and wearing a white gold necklace she hadn't exactly paid for when she'd acquired it. She would simply ignore the feelings and the glimpses that haunted her, because they were unquestionably silly, and after all, she was supposed to be spending her time moving on and creating a new life for herself, not fearing for her mental health.

When the showcase began, she had felt blissfully normal for the first twenty minutes, happily mingling with the guests and sipping champagne as she did her job, at ease for once. She was in the middle of speaking to the artist whose work was on display himself when she suddenly felt the familiar sensation of being watched, more powerfully than ever, and her arms erupted in goosebumps. Smiling as the artist droned on about something she no longer cared about, she cast a glance behind her and her heart thumped as a shiver ran down her spine.

Once again, she was sure that she'd seen him, but as soon as her eyes met his, several people in the crowd shifted and he disappeared behind them.

Her safe place was no longer safe from the disturbing visions, clearly, and this made her angry. She couldn't even feel relaxed in her own flat, and now the gallery had fallen in her mind, as well.

_Perfect_. Just _perfect_. Perhaps she really should see a psychotherapist about this, because this was officially out of hand, she thought to herself.

She managed to escape the showcase by feigning illness once she spotted the woman from whom she'd stolen the white gold necklace amidst the crowd inside the gallery, and she wasted no time in rushing home. She was frustrated and annoyed when she reached her front door, but she immediately knew something was off when she placed her hand upon the doorknob.

She couldn't explain what it was, because the door was locked and bolted just as she'd left it, but her instincts began screaming and her hand quickly retrieved her gun from its concealed place on her inner thigh.

She cautiously unlocked the door and entered her darkened apartment, turning on lights as she went, finding everything exactly as she'd left it, but still feeling something different in the air, something palpable but unidentifiable. She crept up the staircase that led from the sitting room to her bedroom, and when she reached the top, pushed open the bedroom door with the hand that wasn't clutching the gun, and when she flipped the light on, she sighed.

There was nothing, no one. She suddenly felt ridiculous, paranoid, and began to lower the gun when a hand grabbed her wrist and another one snatched the gun from her clutch and threw it across the room.

She tried to scream but then one of the hands was clamped over her mouth. "I told you before, no guns."

_That voice_. Her eyes widened and she struggled against the firm body behind her that was holding her tightly, but her automatic reflexes to fight back against her attacker faltered the same moment that the hands released her. She turned around and knew that either one of two things were true - either she had officially gone insane, or Bruce Wayne was immune to nuclear explosions.

He stood before her, a slight grin on his face as he watched her face betray her shock. He looked the same as before but somehow different, maybe more relaxed, and was still as unbearably handsome as ever. He wore dark trousers and a dark shirt that was unbuttoned at the top, and after finally absorbing his entire appearance, she managed, "You're dead."

"Technically, yes," he replied.

Her eyes narrowed. "Nobody could have survived that."

"That's true," he said, almost seeming to enjoy her slightly fearful expressions.

She stared at him, her words faltering now, and he finally decided to elaborate a bit, albeit with only one word. "Autopilot."

"Autopilot?" she repeated.

He nodded. "Nobody knew about it but me. Although I assume Fox will figure it out soon, if he hasn't already."

She stared for a few more moments as her mind wrapped around what she was being told. "So it _has_ been you I've been seeing! You've been following me!"

His grin widened a little at this. "Maybe."

"Why?" she demanded. "Why would you do that? I've been thinking that I'm going insane - _why_?"

He paused for a moment. "That plane you flew here on," he said, "I flew it. You can imagine my surprise when I saw your name on the passenger list."

She clenched her jaw. So that _was_ him, and that _was_ his voice she'd heard.

"I wasn't trying to follow you. I had other reasons for choosing Italy, and I picked that flight at random. The pilot was drunk, so it was extremely easy to slip in his place."

"You still haven't answered my question," she said through gritted teeth.

"Well," he said, "I admit, I became kind of fascinated with you after that flight. I kept an eye on you, to try to figure you out. See what you decided to do with your clean slate."

Then he stepped closer, and she suppressed a shiver when his finger reached out to her necklace. He raised an eyebrow to her as he fingered the white gold.

She smirked defiantly. "What can I say, old habits die hard."

With a brief swipe of his fingers, the necklace was in his hand. "You're better than this."

"What do you know about me?" she spat. "You're the one who's been stalking me and making me think I was crazy all this time."

He deposited the necklace in one pocket, then withdrew something from another. "I know more about you than you think."

"Oh?" she challenged, still feeling a little shaky despite her anger.

"One, I know that when it really matters, you come through. Two, I know that despite how selfish you can be, you aren't the unfeeling, apathetic person you've convinced yourself you are. And three," he said, opening his hand to reveal a strand of beautiful white orbs, "you look better in pearls."

She looked at him strangely as he invaded her space again, placing the pearls around her neck and clasping it securely underneath her hair.

"I've never claimed to be apathetic," she said when his hands retreated. "Only realistic. Why are you in my house?"

"I think you know the answer to that," he replied.

"I'm still trying to get my head around the fact that you're not a pile of ash," she said, "so you're going to have to spell it out."

This seemed to amuse him. With a shrug that said _well, if you say so_, he invaded her space a third time and pressed his lips to hers.

Fingers ran through her hair as her world got turned on his head, though in the most pleasant of ways. His lips were as soft as she remembered, and when he deepened the kiss, she allowed him, shivering when his tongue ran along her bottom lip before slipping inside her mouth.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and dared to open her eyes once, to make sure that he wasn't a figment of her imagination and that she wasn't really kissing her pillow while dreaming or something, and when she was satisfied that he was not a dream nor a ghost, she closed her eyes again and melted into his arms.

When he pulled away, she opened her eyes and only let him stare at her for a moment before slapping him hard across his cheek. "That's for stalking me," she said as his face jerked to the side with the impact of her hand. She slapped him once more. "That's for breaking into my house." She reached back to slap him a third time for making her think he was dead, but this time he caught her hand, and she found herself pinned against the wall.

"Not that I don't deserve it," he said, nose to nose with her, "but you've made your point."

"I haven't even begun to make my point," she said, a dangerous flash in her eyes.

"I'll hold you to that," he said before kissing her once more, and this time, she responded with everything she had.

After a moment she managed to break free of him and slammed him against the wall where she had been with only the briefest break of their kiss, not about to relinquish any control to him. Whatever this was, and whatever it would become, she would be like no woman he'd ever had before, and she made sure he was well aware of this fact now rather than later. She had yet to find any man who could handle her, but when she found her feet suddenly off the floor and his arms coiled around her as he placed her utterly ungently on the floor, not even bothering to try to make it to her bed, she thought maybe, just maybe, they'd both finally met their match.

His lips bruised themselves against her neck and she grabbed a handful of the hair that she'd seen on that flight when she'd finally escaped Gotham as well as her own identity, and when he lifted his head to kiss her lips again, she looked into his eyes and asked, "Why me? I'm the last kind of person someone like you should want."

He grinned and brushed her hair back as her fingers moved through the buttons of his shirt. "We're more alike than you think."

She didn't argue, knowing he was probably right, and pushed his shirt off of his shoulders. In one fluid motion, he was suddenly on his back, and she was straddling his waist. "Try to keep up with me."

"My pleasure," he replied, and their night didn't end for hours.

Neither Selina nor Bruce would have wanted it any other way.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Seeing as this got the best response of any first chapter/oneshot I've ever posted, I am SO continuing this story :)That and the fact that this is possibly the most delicious pairing I've ever written. I simply can't resist :P I plan for chapters to be longer after this. Updates probably will happen weekly, maybe twice a week, depends on the muse and my other works in progress. Thank all of you SO much for your feedback/alerts/faves. It means SO much, seriously. :D**

Selina woke up with a jolt when a wayward pigeon apparently whacked into her bedroom window. She squinted at the sunlight filtering into the room and she quickly realized she was on the floor and not in her bed, and a groan from her left reminded her that she wasn't alone.

She turned her aching neck and took in the sight of Bruce Wayne, lying on his side with his arm under his head, naked, wincing as he woke up as unwillingly as she had. He rolled on to his back and she saw his eyes squeeze shut and jaw clench, while his hands balled into fists and his body stiffened. Her brows furrowed but she did not speak yet, and her mind drifted back to last night.

It was a night to remember, to put it mildly. They had wandered into at least three different rooms in the course of the night and had ended up back where they began, her bedroom floor, but not after screwing each other so passionately and crazy that it was almost brutal. They were both determined to overcome the other and establish dominance, but it was impossible - they were equally matched and neither had experienced such a thing before, but they didn't dare complain.

At one point she wondered how exactly a man who had been as physically battered as Bruce could have maintained such stamina and manage to nearly wreck her apartment in the process - lamps had been broken and a door was dangling from it's hinges - but clearly, he was now paying for it. She felt a little guilty for slamming him to the wall and the floor and being generally unthoughtful as to his physical state.

"Are you okay?" she asked as he started to gasp in pain.

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

She looked at him skeptically but didn't speak until he tried to sit up and immediately fell back to the floor with another gasp of pain. "I think it's safe to say you aren't fine."

"It's my back," he panted. "I shouldn't have - the floor - _urgh_."

"Come on," she said, sitting up and not feeling particularly self conscious about her own state of undress. "I'll help you up."

She clasped his hands and helped pull him up to a sitting position, his breath coming in quick pants as he did so. In the light of day, she could see the scars that littered his body and the evidence of the life he'd lived, but she kept her eyes level with his. "Better?"

He was still wincing, but he nodded as he slowly opened his eyes. "This wasn't how I was planning on this morning to begin."

"Do a lot of your mornings begin this way?"

He grinned a little bit. "I should be so lucky."

She returned his grin and helped him to his feet, and as soon as he was upright, he knees nearly buckled and he let out another rasp of pain. She could have sworn she heard a few _cracks_ from his back.

"Did I cripple you last night?" Her voice wasn't entirely sympathetic when she said this, more so amused.

"I'm already crippled," he grunted, forcing himself straight. He was regretting the choice of spending a great deal of time last night supporting her weight while holding her against various walls as well as not taking into account how painful sleeping on a hard floor would be. Chronic pain had been a part of his life for years now, but his last adventure as the Batman had increased his physical problems exponentially, and after a few months of taking it easy, apparently one long night of passion and a bit of bedless sleep was enough to leave him like this. A lesser man may have been embarrassed.

"I think someone doesn't know their limits," she said, turning and scooping his shirt off of the floor and draping it over herself before tossing his pants to him.

"You aren't the first to say so," he replied, the effort it took to actually put on the pants causing him to break into a sweat.

"Then maybe you should start listening," she said, watching as he fell on to the edge of her bed and ran a hand through his ruffled hair.

"Where would be the fun in that?" he asked, managing a small grin as he looked up at her.

She looked at him with amusement. "I'm glad it was worth it. I'll be in the shower."

She sauntered from the room and he didn't take his eyes off of her until she disappeared. Once she did, he fell on his back with a groan, cursing under his breath. What he wouldn't give to not feel trapped in the body of a broken man.

She didn't bother to close the door to her bathroom, half expecting Bruce to take advantage of this fact, and she allowed her head to start swimming with the questions she had been fighting off ever since he first kissed her last night.

Clearly he was here because he was obviously interested in her - or in his words, _fascinated_ - but what exactly was going to come of this? Would anything come of this? What was he thinking, watching her for all of this time and deciding to suddenly make a move while making the questionable choice to break into her apartment? Sheesh, he sure hadn't lost his flair for the dramatic, that was for sure.

She turned on the shower and waited a moment for the water to get hot, wondering exactly what his intentions were. If a lover was what he wanted, she'd be happy to oblige. She shuddered at the memory of what had taken place last night, and she rarely shuddered for anything, let alone any_one_.

After her shower was finished and she found herself almost disappointed that he hadn't joined her, she dried herself off and slipped into a black silk robe that barely reached her mid-thigh, then walked back into her bedroom to see something nearly unbelievable - Bruce doing push ups on her floor.

"Really?" she asked, running her fingers through her wet hair. He looked up mid-push up and then moved up to his knees.

"Sometimes pushing through the pain is all that helps," he said, a bead of sweat falling from his brow. She tossed his shirt to him.

"Right," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Anyway, the shower's free. No hot water left, though - sorry about that."

He almost laughed, because she didn't sound sorry at all. When he managed to get to his feet once more, she was suddenly inches away from him, and her lips pressed themselves against his without warning.

It was just enough of a distraction to enable her to swipe his wallet. She did it mostly to make a point, and to see how long it took for him to notice its absence. She broke the kiss as abruptly as she'd began it, and then said, "See you downstairs, Mr. Wayne."

Leaving him to stare at her absence, Selina strode downstairs and into her kitchen, and began the mundane process of brewing coffee. Today she brewed enough for two, her plans for the day rendered moot now that Bruce Wayne was showering upstairs. She had to be at the gallery at three, but it was only ten now, and she debated whether or not to demand answers once he showed himself again. Should she voice the questions that were floating about inside of her mind, or should she just go with the flow, and see what came of this mildly bizarre development?

Admittedly, she'd always been more of a go with the flow type of girl, provided she could control said flow.

She had poured two cups of coffee and was biting on a piece of toast when he eventually emerged, fully clothed and hair as damp as hers, stepping into her kitchen with a limp he tried to conceal. Their eyes met and she held out a mug of steaming coffee to him, saying, "You seem to be the type to take your coffee black."

He took the drink as his lips quirked up to one side just a bit. "You'd be right."

She turned and sat down at a small fold-up table a few feet away, and he did the same. She took another bite of toast. "So what exactly are you doing in Italy?"

He swallowed a great gulp of the coffee and then set the mug down. "This and that."

"Really? You're going to be vague now?"

He grinned. "I found work flying a private jet for a wealthy family on the countryside. They travel about twice a week, so it's not exactly exciting, but I stay in their guesthouse, and it keeps me somewhat busy."

"And in your spare time you moonlight as a breaking and entering stalker," she surmised.

"I stay busy," he replied, taking another drink.

Then Selina pulled out a black square object from one of the thin pockets of her robe and held it up. "Don't tell me you're losing your touch, Mr. Wayne."

He smiled as she began rifling through his wallet. "No worries, Miss Kyle. I was well aware when you pocketed that."

She pulled out his identification card and looked it over. "Still, maybe you should be more careful now that you're on a part time pilot's salary. So, 'John Lambert' it is now, is it?"

"I never said it was my only source of income," he said, not making a move to retrieve the card or his wallet. "You ought to have known I'd have set up arrangements in the event of emergencies."

"But you were broke when you died," she said, slipping the card back inside the wallet.

He merely raised his eyebrows slightly to her, as if such an idea was preposterous.

She rolled her eyes. "I really hate rich people sometimes."

He smiled. "So, why Italy?"

"Why not Italy?"

He shrugged. "Just curious."

"It seemed as good of a place as any to start over," she said. "And I happen to love the food and speak the language. What drew you here?"

"The same reasons, and a few more," he replied. "Why are you still stealing when you worked so hard to erase your past and start over?"

"The better question is," she replied, "why is that any of your business?"

He waved a hand. "It's just that I don't understand."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not planning on getting in deep again, if you must know. But a girl deserves some nice jewelry, wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course. Which reminds me, where are my mother's pearls?"

"In my room, in a jewelry box," she answered. "I took them off last night when I became afraid that you would destroy them the way you destroyed my apartment."

He smirked. "Yeah, sorry about that. If it's any consolation, I'm going to need to make a very long trip to the doctor now."

"And replace my lamps and pay for my door to be fixed," she said.

He reached across the table and picked up his wallet, then opened it and pulled out a handful of euros. "This ought to cover it."

She took the money and pocketed it, placing it with the rest of his money that she'd already swiped. He really needed to pay better attention to his money. "Thanks."

Knowing full well that she had already helped herself to his cash, he smiled and finished his coffee. He decided to let her continue to believe that she was a step ahead of him. She usally was anyway. "Have dinner with me tonight."

"I would, but I work tonight. Unless you'd rather me miss a night and make up the money in more interesting ways."

He didn't blink. "Tomorrow then."

She narrowed her eyes a bit. "Aren't you going about this a little out of order?"

"If you don't want to date me, then you can say so. I won't be offended."

"I'm just trying to figure out what exactly you're up to," she said.

"It's only dinner," he insisted. "That's all."

"Is it ever really 'only' anything with you?"

She raised a fair point, he had to admit. "Only one way to find out."

If she was being honest, she was never going to say no. But she was hardpressed to find a reason why this man would want to date her. What they'd done last night made infinitely more sense than going on a proper date. Why would he want anything to do with the woman who condemned him to months of Bane's torture, not to mention the lifetime of ailments that resulted from the injuries he'd sustained at the hands of that terrorist?

Then again, this was the Batman's creator who was sitting before her. Moral, incorruptible, good. Apparently all-forgiving as well. She supposed she should be glad that he considered her help at the end of the nightmare in Gotham to be satisfactorily redeeming, because she certainly didn't sometimes. Not that she was going to admit it.

"Fine," she said at last. "Tomorrow."

"Fantastic," he said, rising from the table. "I'll pick you up at six."

"How will I ever survive the anticipation," she replied through a smile, getting up and walking in front of him towards the front door.

She opened the door and then watched him walk to it, unable to conceal his limp as well as he had only moments before. She wondered how much pain he was hiding behind his dark eyes, but they didn't give anything away as they lay upon her when he reached the doorframe.

"Miss Kyle," he said with an incline of his head and a grin on his lips.

"Always a pleasure, Mr. Wayne," she said, looking up at him through heavy lashes.

He stepped outside and she was pushing the door closed when his voice stopped her. "I forgot to ask you," he said, turning around, "what are you called these days?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You didn't manage to figure that out while you watched me for weeks?"

"Well, I did hear the gallery owner call you something once, but -"

"You heard correctly," she smiled. "Kitty Carter."

Bruce shook his head and smiled. "Don't you think that's a little... ambiguous for an alias?"

She gave a slight shrug. "Bye, 'John'."

She closed the door on his handsome face and smiled to herself, a familiar feeling growing in the pit of her gut. Excitement. Amusement. The prospect of new potential. Other things she didn't want to acknowledge.

She returned to her fold-up table and emptied her pocket of Bruce's euros, counting enough for her home repairs as well as enough for a new dress for tomorrow. That's if she chose to pay for one - really, it all depended on what sort of mood she found herself in when she went shopping for the dress.

In the meantime, she would try to ignore the underlying tensions that would make this date awkward, at least on her part, and continue to wrap her mind around how drastically different yesterday was compared to today.

Today, she no longer felt paranoid, nor fearful for her sanity, and though she would never admit it, a weight had been lifted from her heart. She hadn't even noticed the weight was there until it was gone, but it evaporated last night at the sight of Bruce, alive and lurking in her bedroom, still in one piece against all odds. He was such an anomaly, and her apparent lack of ability to fully understand him was infuriating to her. She understood Batman and what he stood for, but trying to put Batman and Bruce Wayne together and creating a clear picture of who he was - she simply could not. She didn't know him well enough yet.

That would surely change, however. She still couldn't understand why the privileged playboy didn't just go and spend the rest of his life wooing brainless twits who would swoon at his smile while their panties came flying off of their own accord - just because he was John Lambert now didn't mean his magnetic pull on women would ever change - instead of nursing an apparent crush on someone he really shouldn't want much to do with. Just another aspect of the man that she couldn't understand.

But no matter, she thought as she finger-combed through her still-damp hair. He'd be a fun mystery to unravel.

Her skin tingled at the thought, leaving her to marvel at the fact that just thinking about the man elicited such a physical reaction. She suddenly wished she didn't have to wait an entire day for their date.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review or follow this story. Had to change the rating for this, but I doubt anyone will complain. :) Let me know what you think :)**

In the end, Selina chose to purchase rather than steal the body-hugging black dress that caught her eye in the window of a boutique not far from the art gallery. It would have been exceedingly easy to swipe, because the boutique's owner and sole staffer were busy fussing over some high-society bint who was bemoaning not having the shop closed so that she could browse in solitude, but Selina didn't mind spending Bruce's money the way that she despised spending her own.

However, as she paid for the dress, the obnoxious woman passed behind her and spoke loudly in Italian, "_Take this girl for example... she looks like she's one to frequent the second hand shops, and I doubt if she even speaks our language... yes, she has American written all over her! Why should I even bother giving my euros to a place that caters to such undesirables_?"

Selina smiled and took her newly bagged dress from the frazzled and sympathetic looking staffer, and when she turned around, was pleased to see that the woman was standing only a few feet directly behind her, examining a silk scarf with her nose in the air. A thin bracelet sparkled from the woman's too-thin wrist, and with a noise of disgust, she tossed the scarf to the floor.

A familiar rush of excitement gave birth in her veins, and Selina took a few steps before feigning tripping just before she would have passed the woman, throwing herself in her direction and planting the sharp heel of her boots into the woman's sandaled, exposed foot while her hand grabbed the woman's arm in an apparent attempt to steady herself. The bracelet was off long before the woman had the chance to notice it's absence.

"Mi scusi!" Selina exclaimed as she let go and watched the woman's arms flail about, shrieking as if she'd just gotten truly stabbed somewhere much worse than a foot. Selina removed her heel and put on her best falsely apologetic face as the woman's handlers circled around her and began nearly panicking themselves. "I'm just so clumsy! Oh, are you all right, madam?"

The woman stopped wailing long enough to glare at Selina and then barked in Italian, "_See, what did I tell you? 'Mi scusi', ha! No doubt only one of three Italian words she knows_!"

Selina smiled and apologized sweetly a few more times before walking away and out of the shop, slipping the lovely little diamond and platinum bracelet on her wrist when she was back on the sidewalk. Maybe she didn't have to steal to survive anymore, but it didn't mean she was opposed to stealing from those who deserved it.

She returned home to find the man she'd called to repair her bedroom door waiting outside of her apartment. She let him in and made herself a cup of tea while he worked, sipping the hot liquid while admiring the new imported lamps she'd picked up last night to replace the broken ones. In fact, depending on how much the new door ended up costing, she may have enough money left over for another small home improvement. She thought she may just have to let Bruce come over more often and destroy more of her belongings while in the throes of passion, if this is what resulted.

The repairman was young and surprisingly handsome, and after he was done installing the new door, she had to deny his suggestion of an alternative form of payment. If he had done this two days prior, she might have considered it, if only for how sexually deprived she'd been for longer than she cared to think about, but after Bruce's visit, she wasn't tempted in the least.

After sending away the slightly disappointed boy, she closed the front door and checked the time on her cell phone. If she was going to look her best tonight, now was a good time to begin her preparations.

* * *

At 5:55 P.M., Selina walked down the staircase and into her sitting room, peeking out the window next to the front door and finding nothing. She turned and opened the small clutch in her hands and retrieved a mirror, checking her reflection one last time.

Her lips were red and perfect; her hair was longer than it used to be and fell freely over her shoulders, much more comfortable than if she'd put it up in a knot, and anyway, she always preferred her hair down; her new dress fit like a glove and placed each curve on a display, the hem ending at her mid-thigh, covering just enough to allow her to have her gun on her person. She really didn't care if Bruce liked it or not - she preferred to be armed at all times, regardless of if she could protect herself without the aid of a weapon.

She was adjusting the strand of perfect white pearls that sat upon her neck when clock struck six, and her doorbell rang precisely then. She dropped the mirror into her clutch and took hold of the doorknob, twisting it and opening the door to reveal the slightly smiling, entirely disarmingly sexy, Bruce Wayne.

"Miss Kyle," he said with a slight nod, and one hand sitting lazily in a pocket of his crisp suit.

Her lips quirked into a half smile before her eyes were drawn to the vehicle that looked as if it were taking up nearly the entire parking lot. "I see you spared no expense."

He glanced back at the limousine and then turned back to her. "Well, this way I don't have to worry as much about you stealing my car and leaving me stranded." He extended his hand. "Shall we?"

She took his hand and the stolen bracelet grazed his sleeve. His eyes moved from the thin diamond strand to to the rest of her, and ended where his mother's pearls sat on her neck. "You look exceptionally beautiful tonight," he murmured, leading her out into the cool night air.

"You're too kind," she smirked, linking her arm with his as they walked. A small girl who looked to be around the age of nine gawked from atop a pink bicycle at them from and their form of transportation from across the complex, and Selina smiled at the girl.

They reached the limousine, and Bruce opened the door closest to the rear of the vehicle, motioning for her to enter. "I have to admit, I'm a fan of the dress," he said, appreciating the view from behind nearly as much as he did the one from the front.

"You should be," she said, sliding inside and on to the cool leather seats. "You paid for it."

He closed the door and shook his head with a small smile, taking his place next to her inside the limo a moment later.

When the engine purred to life almost inaudibly and the suit-clad driver began steering them back towards the road, Selina took in her almost obnoxiously luxurious surroundings. The backseat was complete with a bucket of ice and what she assumed was the finest bubbly money could buy, a flat screen television that was turned off, and everything else she would expect to find in such an unnecessary display of wealth. Still, she wasn't complaining. "I take it your 'emergency fund' is rather sizable."

"Wouldn't be much good to me if it wasn't, would it?" he replied. "Champagne?"

"I don't see why not," she said. "So, where are we going?"

"To dinner," he answered, producing two small glasses from a compartment before raising the champagne bottle from the ice.

"You don't say."

His lips quirked into a smile as he uncorked the bottle. She watched his fingers at work and it brought back a memory from two nights ago that would have made a lesser woman blush.

A glassful of golden liquid was suddenly under her nose. She took the glass and they locked eyes for a moment, enough to make Selina feel plenty warm without the aid of alcohol, and she was the one to look away first.

She watched buildings pass outside of the tinted windows as she sipped the champagne, a tingle erupting in the pit of her stomach when two fingers grazed her left wrist. "Nice bracelet."

"Thanks, I thought so too," she smirked, looking down and admiring the jewelry.

Bruce gently lifted her wrist closer to his eyes. "Platinum, am I right?"

She thought so, because it felt heavier than it should have had it been made of white gold or silver, but of course, she hadn't had the chance to ask that horrid woman she'd stolen it from. "I believe so."

He gave her a look, and she returned it with one that said, _go ahead, I dare you_. One thing she wasn't in the mood for was a lecture about the moral implications of stealing. Instead of speaking, he pressed a kiss to her hand and then placed it back at her side. She ignored how the tingle had grown to a steady pulsing with just the one chaste kiss and continued drinking.

The ride to the restaurant didn't feel long, and the next time Selina looked up, she saw that they were approaching one of the tallest buildings in downtown Florence. She knew there was a fine dining restaurant at the very top of the building, and it had been on her list of places to con someone rich into taking her, so she was quite pleased.

The limousine stopped in front of the building, and Selina waited while Bruce exited the limo and came around to open her door for her. She set down her glass and, when the door opened, took the hand that was offered to her, and stepped out into the slightly chilly night air once more.

He didn't let go of her hand until they reached the top of the hotel, spending the elevator ride in uncharacteristic silence. Selina chalked it up to the other two couples that had accompanied them - neither of them could speak freely in front of anyone but one another. She hadn't thought of this before, and it made her feel strange, like nobody in the world would ever know her the way this man would. At least it was surely the same for Bruce as well.

They stepped out of the elevator and into pure elegance, as she'd expected, and their table awaited them at the end of the room with the grandest view of the city through spotless full-length windows.

They took seats opposite one another and Selina watched Bruce as he ordered drinks for them in Italian, and the pulsing in her gut returned from its momentary absence. She couldn't help it - even she couldn't pretend the man speaking this language wasn't sexy enough to make her feel almost giddy. Unless that was the champagne already at work, but she doubted that.

The server bustled away, and Bruce turned his eyes to Selina, who hadn't taken her eyes off him since they sat down. "I hope this place is to your liking."

"So do I," she replied. "Mind telling me why you're trying to get me drunk?"

"A little champagne on the way and a glass of wine with dinner shouldn't get you drunk," he said, referring to the bottle of wine he'd just ordered them.

"I've never particularly enjoyed being drunk," she said. "I don't like dulled senses, or not being fully in control of my body. I don't even know the last time I _was_ drunk."

His head shifted to the side a little bit, as if in agreement. "Still, I think you're safe enough with me to have a drink or two tonight. But only if you want to."

She smiled. "I'm not safe anywhere. You of all people should realize that." When he didn't say anything, she continued. "I've been making enemies my whole life, and it's only a matter of time before I run into one of them. Even halfway around the world from Gotham. I can't let my guard down for anyone."

Two large glasses and a bottle of the restaurant's finest red wine was placed upon the table. Selina went to open her menu but Bruce began ordering before she could even graze the list of entrees.

The server filled their glasses and then shuffled away with their menus, and Selina eyed Bruce with slight annoyance. He quickly said, "What?"

"Not every woman finds a man choosing her food to be romantic."

"I wasn't trying to be romantic," he said. "Just testing how well I've come to understand you."

She sipped from her glass of wine and almost couldn't believe how delicious it was. She took another sip and was distracted enough that Bruce's voice caught her off guard.

"Why did you come back?"

She furrowed her brows just slightly and set her glass down. "What do you mean?"

"In Gotham," he said. "Why did you come back instead of fleeing when you had the chance?"

Oh, that, she thought. That was something she wasn't sure she understood herself. "Would you rather I left you to be murdered slowly and cruelly by Bane?"

"I'm asking why," he pressed.

"I never asked you why you decided to swoop in and get me out of my own tight situation with Bane before everything went to hell," she retorted.

"I'd answer if you did ask me," he said. When she didn't reply, he said, "Fine, then at least answer me this - did you do it for me, or for Gotham?"

The questions were getting annoying. At least she had the decency of keeping her multitude of questions to herself - why couldn't he do the same? "Does it matter?"

"It matters to me," he replied.

"Maybe it was because I didn't want to watch the city I grew up in get vaporized," she said. "Or maybe I didn't want to leave you for dead a second time. You can believe whatever you prefer."

"I always knew I was right about you," he said, enjoying her annoyance flit across her features at these words. "I knew there was more to you."

When he said it, it sounded more believable than it ever had before. But that didn't mean it was true. "You truly are the consummate idealist, Mr. Wa - _'John'_." She paused. "That's going to take some getting used to."

"Your name's easier to remember," Bruce grinned. "By the way - what happened to the BatPod?"

"Ah, the BatPod," she smiled. "That was difficult to get moved to Italy."

"It's here?"

She nodded. "It's safe."

"How did you get it over here?" he asked, interest piqued.

"With someone else's money and the help of some drug lords who had extra room on their vessel that was headed to port here."

Bruce's eyes widened, and she almost laughed at him. "It still works?"

"Of course it does," she replied. "I can take you visit it one of these days."

He paused before saying, "No, that's all right."

She studied him for a moment, silence lasting a moment or two before she asked, "How badly do you miss Gotham?"

A took a moment, and a drink of wine, before answering. "A part of me misses it as much as you'd expect. The other part is glad I never have to step foot there again."

She didn't know his full story, but she saw a lifetime's worth of pain behind his eyes. She'd always seen it, when she took the time to look for it. "But if you could, you'd go back."

He raised his eyes to her, and slowly nodded. "Of course I would."

She leaned forward a bit. "I don't know why you became the Batman, and I barely know anything about who you are underneath your masks. But, I can see that Gotham has put you through hell, and that's an understatement. Your body is damaged and yet it's probably more intact than the rest of you. So why do you miss it at all? What's ever been there for you, besides a big pile of cash and a house big enough to get lost in?"

"If you don't answer my questions, I don't see why I should answer yours," he retorted, though she could see his amusement being masked by the glass he brought to his lips.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I felt guilty after what I did to you. And after everything that happened, I didn't want you to die. I went back for you. Happy?"

Bruce looked as surprised as she felt. The words had tumbled out, formed out of nowhere, and she instantly wanted to retract them. Is that even really how she felt? But the words felt right, now that she'd said them out loud.

Their eyes met, and something changed in his. It was subtle, but it was there. Then it was gone. "My parents - for me, it all goes back to my parents. They did so much to help Gotham in their lives, and their deaths shaped my life in more ways than you'd believe. If you wanted the whole story, we'd need a couple of hours."

"What I don't understand," she said, "is why you're here with me right now. I've screwed you over more times than I've helped you, and you don't know that I won't do it again."

"I think I do," he replied.

"Then you're dangerously presumptuous."

"I've been right about you so far, so why start doubting myself now?"

"Because anyone who trusts me is only setting themselves up for disappointment," she replied, an edge to her voice.

Bruce's eyebrows lowered on his forehead and he looked down as he said, "I gave you a way out. A way to start over, and have a better life. You don't have to live like you used to, or limit yourself to this kind of thinking that -"

"That what?"

Bruce reached across the table and fingered her bracelet. "That it's okay to do this. You know better than anyone you can only outrun yourself for so long before it catches up with you."

"If you're here because you want to 'change' me," she cut him off, anger evident in her voice and flashing in her dark eyes, "or make me 'see the light', or whatever it is you're getting at, then feel free to go to hell. I'm fine with who I am, and I sure as hell won't change for any man. Not even Bruce Wayne."

She didn't bother to lower her voice when she said his name, and just as the words left her mouth, their dishes arrived. An awkward silence fell and Bruce quietly thanked the server, while Selina stared down into her plate, still seething.

Who did Bruce think he was? He didn't know anything about her, or what made her the person she was today. Maybe he had some nice little fantasy of taming her or domesticating her, and if he did, he had quite another thing coming. He should know by now that she was nothing if not completely her own person.

She picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of sauce-smothered chicken.

"Look, I'm sorry -"

"Don't," she snapped, shoving the chicken in her mouth, hoping she would hate it. She didn't, of course - in fact, it was probably the most delicious bit of poultry she'd ever had. The entire dish was a combination of sweet, savory and just a little bit spicy, and she found it to be perfect.

Bruce broke the silence first. "How is it?"

She wanted to lie and say it was terrible, and that he should never make another suggestion to her for anything, not even food. "Fine," she said flatly.

The rest of the dinner went by like this, with a silence so awkward it could have been cut like butter. Bruce felt like an idiot, and Selina wanted to bite his head off some more, but as a compromise, they stayed silent until their plates were empty.

"Would you like dessert?" Bruce finally asked.

She shook her head. He nodded. A few minutes later, they were back in the elevator. A wider space separated them this time compared to when they'd arrived.

The limousine was waiting for them when they stepped outside, and Bruce opened her door for her wordlessly. She slid inside and crossed her legs as he closed the door, keeping as far to her side as was possible while he climbed in next to her.

"I had something else planned, but -"

"Take me home."

He nodded, instructed the driver, and then pushed a button near the window controls that raised a soundproof divider between their compartment and the rest of the vehicle. Selina looked at him through narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?"

He moved closer to her, and she tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. "Selina, listen to me."

The sound of her first name falling from his lips brought back the tingle in her stomach.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I don't want to change you. I don't. It's just that when you sit there and talk about yourself like you're this irredeemable person -"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Would you listen to yourself? I've stolen, I've lied, I've killed, and I don't regret it. I've done what I've had to do to survive my whole life, on my own, and it's not going to change. I'm not moral, I don't fit into your definition of 'good', and -"

"Now you're the one being dangerously presumptuous," Bruce interrupted.

She stared at him through hardened eyes, her heart rate picking up. "Tell me you didn't curse my very existence every day you spent enduring what Bane put you through. Tell me you didn't hate me all of those months. Tell me there isn't a part of you that still hates me."

"Do you really think that you closing the door on me was what sealed my fate?" he retorted. "Do you think that if you hadn't taken me to him that I wouldn't have just gone and found him myself? As soon as I stepped foot in there I wasn't coming out. But the fact that you're so intent on blaming yourself for it proves that you're not what you think you are."

Suddenly he was close, too close, and his fingertips lifted up her chin to force her to look him in the eye. "I forgive you, Selina."

"I never apologized," she said defiantly.

"You have," he said, eyes flickering to her lips and back again. "You just don't realize it. Your eyes are full of regret every time you look at me."

"Maybe I regret that I saved you, because at least then you wouldn't be here being an ass."

Bruce smirked at this. "I told the driver to take the long way back to your place."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you say I'm the one being dangerously presumptuous."

He grinned for the split second it took to capture her lips with his. The hum in her gut burst into a fiery blaze that spread throughout her body and centered itself between her legs, and she almost gasped when his tongue slipped inside her mouth. This was so unlike her, and she could have kicked herself for having such a string reaction to just a mere kiss, but she couldn't help it. The pulsing between her legs was already painful, like it had been building up all night, just waiting to explode, even despite their argument. In fact, she wondered if it had heightened things somehow.

Her hands went from his collar to his hair and then his face while his followed suit, one tangled in her hair while his thumb brushed her cheek as the other hand traveled down the curve of her side to her hip. She pulled him to her hungrily and deepened the kiss as much as she could, arching towards him, rubbing her thighs together in a vain attempt to relieve some of the tension.

He noticed this when he broke away panting, and quickly moved to claim her neck with his lips. It just might be his favorite part of her - long, elegant and extremely sensitive, and a soft moan escaped her lips when his made contact with the soft flesh there.

She immediately winced when she heard herself make the noise, accidentally tugging his hair in her frustration. He didn't mind this - in fact, he rather liked it.

Then his lips found hers again, and the hand that was on her hip before moved to her knees, which he gently parted before placing the hand in between her legs. She gasped into his mouth, praying that he wasn't teasing her, biting his bottom lip when he tried to pull away.

The hand moved maddeningly slowly up the curve of her inner thigh, and when his fingers reached the small gun holstered there, he removed it in a flash. She opened her eyes and watched as he ejected the clip from the gun and then tossed the pieces away carelessly, not even bothering to break their kiss as he did it.

She didn't like being disarmed, but it was a recurring theme of their encounters, and he was the only man she'd ever let get away with it. If she'd stopped to think long enough of the implications of this, she may have recognized this to be a rare and uncharacteristic sign on trust on her part, but then his fingers brushed feather-softly against her core and she began moving against him again, desperate for more.

But his hand continued to fail her, retreating to her thigh everytime it got nearly close enough to where she needed it, she pulled his hair again when she thought she might expire from the sheer unmet need. "Come _on_," she breathed into his mouth.

His lips travelled to her ear, where they kissed the lobe there before his voice vibrated against her skin. "Say my name."

God, she thought - that almost sounded like the rough-as-sandpaper voice he used as the Batman. Now the throbbing was officially unbearable.

"Say it," he repeated.

Even in her state of need, she was still clearheaded enough to mess with him. "John Lambert," she breathed with a slight grin.

He growled, and short nails scraped painlessly against her thigh, only inches away from where she desperately needed his fingers to be. "My real name."

"Mr. Wayne," she panted, not wanting to give him anything he wanted until he gave her what she needed. He seemed to get the message.

He removed his lips from her ear and kissed her hard, pulling away to watch her as his fingers suddenly found their destination. _Oh finally_, she thought - but she moaned instead of sighing in relief. In seconds her panties were discarded and skilled fingers worked her bare, needy flesh. "_Say my name_."

This time, his voice sounded even rougher, greedier, and it was indistinguishable from that of the Batman. Not that she really noticed through the pleasure she was being wracked with. "B - Bruce."

She'd say his name all he wanted, in as many languages as he requested, for as long as he pleased, if this was what it got her.

She'd never met a more skilled set of fingers, and as they rubbed, prodded, and plunged, she writhed against his palm, clutching his hair, sometimes his tie, whatever was closest while his lips devoured her. When she couldn't hold back any longer and every muscle in her body began to clench, he claimed her lips once more, swallowing her moans as she came apart at the seams, a shaking and shuddering mess of satisfaction in his arms.

She could scold herself later for being so utterly pliant and, well, _loud_, later but for now, she she simply tried to catch her breath, returning his soft kisses as his hand slowly left the place he knew how to manipulate so well. It didn't go far, however, as it stayed on her thigh, stroking it gently as the vehicle hummed to a stop. She opened her eyes as Bruce pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers.

It was the mystery swirling about his brown eyes that annoyed her, among other things, and her pleasant haze quickly faded. Bruce pulled down the hem of her dress so that it covered the tops of her legs once more before pressing a button to withdraw the divider between them and the driver.

He told the driver his work was done for the night, and Selina scooped up her gun into her bag as Bruce slipped out of the car and came around to open her door. A moment later, they were walking to her front door as the limousine quietly left the parking lot.

She took her key out of her bag and placed it inside the keyhole as Bruce's hands found her waist. His lips and nose grazed her neck from behind and she felt a distinct poke near her backside as his body pressed gently against hers, and it only further motivated her to make sure Bruce got what he deserved.

The lock clicked and she opened her door, then quickly turned around and kissed Bruce firmly on his lips. At this angle, the poke felt more like a large nudging. He tried to push her inside, but she stayed firm.

"Thank you for the lovely night, Bruce."

Then she swiftly stepped back and slammed the door in Bruce's bewildered face. She heard a slightly muffled "_Seriously_?" from behind the door, but he didn't knock or ring the doorbell, or make any attempt to ask her to reconsider leaving him hanging.

She didn't stop grinning until she was upstairs, in her bedroom, taking off her pearls and platinum bracelet, as well as her dress. She slept well that night, knowing she'd gotten what she wanted while Bruce hadn't. It was fair comeuppance for how he'd made her say his name and come apart so effortlessly and maddeningly, she reasoned, and it was probably rather time someone taught the playboy a lesson.

She hoped her message came across loud and clear - that a kiss and a smooth "I'm sorry" would not erase the fact that he still thought she was some sort of wayward kitten in need of training and reform, and most importanly, that she was in control.

She always was. He may as well get used to it now.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I still can't believe all of the reviews, follows and faves this story's gotten. Thank you all so much. I'm not sure how long this story will be, but I'm thinking at least fifteen chapters. Hopefully. We'll see how it goes. :)**

Over the next week, Selina found herself getting more annoyed with each passing day. She was thinking too much, and the fact that Bruce hadn't made any effort to contact her was making it worse. She'd anticipated him maybe taking a day to lick his wounds before making contact with her again, but once the seventh day of silence rolled around, she was becoming genuinely confused.

He was such a persistent, stubborn type - not entirely unlike herself - and this seemed a little out of character. She didn't want to over think anything, or really think on it at all because that would mean he was getting to her and that was unacceptable, but she had realized a few things about their date now that she'd had time to thoroughly comb through the memories of it.

Firstly, he hadn't limped once during the entire length of the date. It was odd but she didn't think much of it, knowing it was probably the result of some expensive medical intervention, but that wasn't the point. It was disturbing because she hadn't noticed at first, and anything slipping past her was cause for concern, and a lot of it.

Stranger was how he'd demanded she say his name when she was struggling just to breathe in the back of the limo. She'd been with her fair share of men, and none of them had ever made such a request, or really spoken at all during such endeavors. If she had been in her right mind, she thought she may have laughed at him for it, but she hadn't been in her right mind. The more she replayed his words in her head, the more she was sure there had been a hint of desperation in his voice, and it was starting to make sense. Maybe it was natural for him to need to hear her say his name, since she was the only woman in the world who knew what it truly was. Maybe that was why he had insinuated himself in her life, despite their conflicted history. Maybe that was why she felt an odd, almost magnetic pull to him, because it was the same for her.

He'd never given her a phone number, and nor had she given one to him. Not that it mattered - she doubted she would have called him anyway. She knew he'd find her if he wanted to.

It was on the eighth day of silence that Selina walked into the art gallery at noon, ready for another day of mildly bland work when her supervisor informed her that she would be making a delivery to a wealthy client's home today.

It was odd because she hadn't previously delivered anything before, but the man who usually did happened to be out sick today. She wasn't complaining - the house she would be taking the painting to was nearly an hour away, and she was up for a nice long drive today. It was a particularly lovely late spring day, and the supervisor's car that she would be borrowing was a convertible - perfect.

The wind whipped through her hair and her mind was the clearest it had been in weeks as she sped down the highway that took her from the heart of the city to the beautiful countryside. The medium-sized painting she was transporting was secure in the backseat, and within about forty five minutes - she couldn't help but speed a little - she was approaching a huge gated estate.

The mansion was as indulgent and obnoxious looking as any other, but the gate was opened already, and as she brought the car on to the grounds, she reexamined the piece of paper that contained the directions to her destination and realized that it was a guest house she was delivering to, not the main structure.

Of course, she thought as she shook her head. A guest house on the grounds of a mansion owned by a wealthy family on the countryside. She should have known. He probably had specifically requested that she be the one to deliver the painting, which he probably didn't even want.

Ignoring the sudden tingling inside, Selina stepped on the gas and continued past the mansion on a narrow road and dipped down into a hill. She followed the road until she climbed up another hill, upon which sat a simple cottage-style house, in front of which a sleek black sportscar was parked. She shook her head, suspecting his "emergency fund" was more like his entire trust fund, and exited the car.

She rang the doorbell and waited, trying not to smile. She didn't know why she had the urge to grin in the first place, especially since she was incredibly annoyed right now, but she managed to keep the smile at bay even after the door opened.

"Good morning, Selina," Bruce said with a nod, clad more casually than she'd ever seen him, in a black t shirt and dark pants, but looking a little worse for wear. His eyes were tired and there were dark circles under them, and there was surprisingly substantial growth along his unshaven jaw. He didn't have the relaxed look about him like he had when she'd discovered him in her house almost two weeks prior, looking more exhausted and possibly sick than anything else. Still, there was a small smile on his lips as he leaned against the doorframe.

"And here I thought you finally realized you can't handle me," she smiled.

"I've been... preoccupied this week. It wasn't my intention to go so long without thanking you for the wonderful date."

His voice was heavy with sarcasm, and Selina stifled a laugh. "Preoccupied with what, exactly? Polishing the car in between your exhausting weekly pilot duties?"

"Something like that," he said, but the amusement in his voice was gone. "I'll help you with the painting."

"I can get it just fine," she said, stepping back and heading towards her borrowed car. Bruce watched from the doorway as she retrieved the art and headed back towards the cottage, raising her eyebrows expectantly when she returned.

Bruce opened the door the rest of the way and she followed him inside, walking through a short hallway to a sitting room that sat adjacent to a small kitchen. She set down the painting on a coffee table that sat in front of a couch and began unwrapping it. "So why do you live here when you can obviously afford anything you want?"

"Starting a little early with the questions, I see," he said, taking the white protective paper scraps from her as she removed them.

"And you're as evasive as ever, I see," she replied, looking down at the exposed painting for the first time. It was a beautiful picture of a rising dawn sun over an ocean, with tiny stars peppering the still-darkened sky. Gorgeous, but not something she'd expect him to purchase.

She was supposed to hang the picture for him as part of her job, but she didn't stop him when he took it from her and walked across the room to a bare wall. He hung it in the middle and looked at it for a moment, before she interrupted the silence. "You're not limping anymore."

He turned slowly and shook his head. "No."

"How?"

He walked a little closer to her and placed his foot upon the coffee table before lifting his right pants leg to reveal a strange looking black brace that sat high on his leg and snaked around his knee. "My first one became damaged, and it took me awhile to find a doctor here with access to these things."

"That fixes your limp?"

"Yeah, and hurts like hell to take off."

She looked around the room, finding it to be as she would have imagined - mostly bare and only minimally comfortable looking, bearing no clues of whom it's inhabitant might be. "You could have called me, you know. You didn't have to buy a random painting from my work to talk to me."

"You never gave me your number."

"Like that would have stopped you," she scoffed, and he smiled a little. His smiles were always small and fleeting, now that she thought of it. "You must be a glutton for punishment. Most men would have avoided me like the plague after what I did to you. Bruised egos and such."

"My ego's fine," he assured her. "Would you like something to drink?"

"What are you offering?"

"To be honest, all I have is water."

She looked away from him towards the kitchen, and sauntered in there with curiosity. He followed her, watching as she opened his empty refrigerator and peeked inside his mostly bare cabinets. When she was finished, she turned to him and shook her head. "I see you don't know how to function without a butler."

His hands shoved inside his pockets. "I get by."

"Do you need someone to teach you how to buy and cook food?" she teased. "Or at least show you how to assemble a decent sandwich?"

"Very funny," he muttered, pushing back a stray strand of hair from his eyes.

"You look terrible," she suddenly commented, the dark circles under his eyes somehow more pronounced in the slightly dim light of the kitchen.

He shrugged. "I've had better weeks."

"Not slipping back into old habits, are we?"

"No," he said, "of course not."

He wandered off to the sink and retrieved a glass from a cabinet. She watched him fill it with water from the tap and sip it before she said, "I should go. I still have a shift to work."

"You weren't scheduled to arrive here for another fifteen minutes, so you don't need to be in a hurry," Bruce said, turning back towards her. "Unless you want to be."

"Fine," she shrugged, walking out of the kitchen and back into the sitting room. He followed her, and they sat on the couch.

"So why do you look as if you haven't slept in a week?" she asked, crossing her legs.

"Because I haven't," he said. When she didn't say anything, he continued, but in a tone that let her know he wasn't entirely comfortable with the subject. "I get... headaches."

"Headaches?"

He nodded, staring at the glass in his hand. "But they last for days at a time, and... nothing helps, so I just have to wait it out."

"You don't look as if you're just suffering from a few headaches," she pointed out. "You look like you've been ill."

Now he looked even more uncomfortable. "When I get them, I can't sleep and I can't eat, I can't keep anything down. Imagine the worst migraine you've ever had and then imagine it fifty times worse."

She wasn't sure what to say, so she didn't say anything.

"But it is what it is. The worst thing is that it's incapacitating and that's very inconvenient when you're trying to work as a pilot."

Selina nodded her understanding, trying not to think about what kind of brain trauma could cause such effects. It brought back memories of watching Bane punch him mercilessly in the head until his mask shattered, and that was not something she wanted to relive. "Is there anything you can do for it?"

"Nothing that's worked yet," he said quietly.

_Ugh_, she really needed to stop asking so many questions, she thought to herself. She wasn't good with sympathy or empathy or whatever it is was she was feeling, and now she felt as uncomfortable as he did. When she eventually looked up at him, she found that he was staring at her intently.

"What?"

"You look beautiful today," he replied. "Like every day."

She hadn't put much thought into her appearance this morning, not thinking she would be doing anything but toiling away at the gallery. Her hair was tousled from the wind and the only makeup on her face was her usual red lipstick and a bit of mascara, but he was looking at her like she was a cool drink of water in a desert.

She knew he was going to kiss her before he did, and when it happened, she didn't hold back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and heard him sigh against her lips so softly it was nearly inaudible, and the sound did something strange within her. He held her tightly and she felt needed, desperately wanted, and when he pulled away, she found that she didn't want him to at all.

She ran her fingers along his rough, unkempt jaw and noticed some of her lipstick smeared on his lips as she looked up into his eyes. He wanted her desperately, and he wasn't trying to hide it.

"You only want me because I know who you are, and I'm the only one who ever will as long as you stay dead."

"That's not true," he whispered back, running his fingers through her hair.

"Yes it is," she said. "You only feel like Bruce Wayne when you're with me, don't you?"

The look he gave her and the silence that hung in the air made her wonder if he ever felt anything at all other than pain without her. She didn't press him further, instead bringing her lips to his once more.

Things escalated quickly, and she decided to make up for their last encounter early on. Their kisses grew heated and furious and she shifted into his lap, straddling him as his hands gripped her hips. Somewhere between ragged breaths and bruising kisses, Bruce managed to rasp, "If this is your way of showing pity -"

"Oh, shut up," she snapped, pulling her top over her head. "You know I don't do anything I don't want to do."

"Then you know you're going to be late getting back to work," he panted, unhooking her bra with one hand and letting it fall to the floor.

"I'm counting on it," she answered, snaking her arms around his neck once more as he stood up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he kissed her and carried her to his bedroom. She knew he would probably regret it later when his back began to hurt, but she stayed silent and ran her tongue all along his mouth until he lay her down in his bed.

The room was darkened with its curtains drawn and his sheets smelled just like him, though she didn't have long to get acquainted with them before his lips were assaulting hers again, leaving only to allow the removal of clothing or for an occasional sharp intake of breath. The brace on his leg scraped against hers and it wasn't entirely pleasant, but then his hand was at the center of her tension and there was nothing in the world but pleasure.

She was so caught up that she was not at all expecting it when his mouth suddenly replaced his fingers, and she had to bite down hard on her lip to stop from crying out. It was almost embarrassing how good he was, and how strongly her body responded to him, and it was only a matter of seconds before she was a quivering, shaking mass of utterly sated skin against his lips.

Her eyes closed as he kissed his way back up her body, reopening when they went to work on her neck. She wrapped her still-quaking legs around his waist and moved gently against him, inviting him in, and after kissing her lips once more, he finally plunged inside of her and got the relief he'd been cheated of a week ago.

She didn't think he would last long, so she overpowered him and rolled him on his back while she took the lead. He quickly moved to sit up and she pushed him down, but when he tried a second time he grabbed her hands and held them still at her side while he got his way. All the while she kept moving, clutching his shoulders when he released her hands and gasping a little when his mouth found one of her nipples, arching her back and picking up the pace a bit as she bounced in his lap.

He soon made a noise like a growl and moved her again, this time briefly to her back before turning her over to her side while he lay behind her. He wasted no time slipping back in and picking up where he left off, though this time he was able to go to work on her with his hand that wasn't holding her close against him, and her accelerated breathing gave her approval for her. The angle allowed for him to easily hit the place within her that wasn't always easy to reach, and combined with his fingers' efforts against her throbbing nub, she thought she might go a second time before he managed his first. Her hand gripped a handful of his hair and she craned her neck to kiss him, feeling his thrusts becoming more erratic as well as his fingers, and when he pulled his lips away from hers and buried his face into her neck, he did something with his thumb that sent her hurtling suddenly over the edge unexpectedly, for the second time in only minutes. He growled in relief and moved his mouth to her shoulder, where he bit down hard as he finally exploded within her.

The house was silent except for the heavy, panting breaths that they shared, and Selina still grasped his hair as his chest heaved against her back, his mouth open and exhaling deeply into her neck. She allowed them to stay like that for a moment until she gently shifted and turned to face him, bringing a hand to his face as he looked at her through heavy eyes.

Their limbs were entangled and his fingers were running lazily through her hair, and he looked as if he might drift off to sleep before she spoke. "Next time, just call me."

He smirked. "I'm glad to hear there will be a next time."

She moved her hand to graze over the hair at the nape of his neck. "Why wouldn't there be? You make it worth it my while, even if I don't always return the favor."

His eyes closed and his smile lingered on his lips. "Stay a few minutes."

She didn't reply, but kept gently stroking his hair and watched as his face softened and he fell into a deep sleep. His chest rose and fell in even, deep breaths, and she was sure that this was the first moments of peaceful sleep that he'd had since she'd seen him last.

It wasn't fair, how badly he was apparently suffering with the physical consequences of his crusades to save Gotham, but of course, life wasn't fair. Once upon a time, she would have thought Bruce deserved this, being the obnoxious, spoiled, generally foul man he used to pretend to be, but not now that she knew who he was and what he'd sacrificed. She knew she'd only begun to scratch the surface of his story, and every line on his handsome face surely told a story that she wasn't sure he'd ever tell her. She wondered if she might prefer to stay in the dark.

She waited until she absolutely had to leave before slowly and gently removing herself from his arms and his bed. He didn't move at all and continued to sleep deeply as she gathered up her clothes from the floors of the bedroom and sitting room, being careful to be as quiet as possible as she did.

After checking one last time that he was still asleep, she made her way to the door but was stopped by the sight of Bruce's cell phone sitting innocently on a kitchen counter. She made a detour and retrieved the phone, programming her number into it before taking it into his bedroom and placing it upon his nightstand.

She didn't know that when she left, his peaceful sleep only lasted a few hours until he was jarred awake by a nightmare, one of his particularly awful ones, and that the only thing that calmed him afterwards was finding a text message from an unfamiliar number on his phone that said, _Sleep well. Call me if you need help learning how to use an oven. Also, thanks for the generous tip_.

He'd wiped his brow and reread the message, later finding his wallet a bit thinner than he'd left it but not as badly as the last time she'd helped herself to his cash. That was all right. If he didn't mind sharing his wealth with her, he wouldn't leave his cash where she could get it.

His sheets were as askew as his hair and general state of mind, and they had a faint scent of something floral and seductive that filled his overwrought and exhausted senses. He allowed himself to sink back down into bed after composing a brief reply, closing his eyes and breathing in the feminine scent that surrounded him until he drifted off to sleep once more.

For her part, Selina spent the rest of the day smelling _his_ scent lingering upon her skin, feeling distinctly jumpier than she should have when she checked her phone at the end of her shift and found a message from Bruce waiting for her.

_Don't ever change._

He really should know by now to be careful what he wished for, but she was happy to abide by his wishes this time.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I edited this a bit quickly, so I apologize for any typos that slipped through. Thanks as always for your guys' wonderful feedback - it's like crack to me lol :D **

She could hardly believe it, but the next day, Selina found herself spending her day off at the market using Bruce's money to buy him a decent food supply. It was the reason she'd swiped some of his cash the day before in the first place, mostly because starvation ending up being the thing to do away with Bruce Wayne seemed entirely too stupid.

After buying food that she deemed simple enough to throw together for meals even for someone as culinarily ignorant as Bruce, she placed the bags of food in the backseat of an SUV that she'd "borrowed" for the day from an elderly neighbor who never used it and thus wouldn't notice it's absence, and sped off towards the countryside once more.

It felt odd, doing a kindness like this, but if anyone in the world deserved it, it was Bruce. She still felt terribly indebted to him, though she sometimes had a poor way of showing it, but on her very short list of things she would go back in time and change if she had the chance, her double-cross of him was at the top of the list.

It was a haunting, terrible, annoying memory that she wished the clean slate had managed to also erase. Her slate felt anything but clean when she relived those awful particular moments, sometimes during her sleep and, less often, during the day.

It was a rainy, chilly day today, very much unlike the previous one, and Selina tried to push out the gloomy thoughts as she made the hour long drive. Bruce had forgiven her, even without an apology, so it was probably high time she forgave herself, but there was still a prevailing sense of unresolved guilt within her that she couldn't shake.

The windshield wipers splashed the raindrops from left to right and distant thunder cracked, providing a distracting soundtrack as Selina reached the estate's open gates and headed down the narrow pathway to Bruce's guesthouse. But when she climbed the hill that the house sat upon, she was surprised to see a half-soaked Bruce tossing a duffel bag into the passenger seat of his car.

He raised his head when he heard the growl of the SUV's engine, pushing the wet hair from his eyes and looking surprised as she parked behind his car. He walked to her window, which she promptly rolled down as she flashed him a smile. "Going somewhere?"

"I got fired today."

She furrowed her brows. "Are you joking?"

He shook his head, resting his arms on her driver's side door. "I'm unreliable, apparently."

"Why don't you get in the car and tell me about it before you get pneumonia?" she suggested, unlocking the doors with the push of a button.

He gave her a look but loped around the car anyway, climbing into the passenger seat and shaking his soaked hair in a way that Selina found oddly enticing.

"Is this your car?" he asked, interrupting her brief distraction.

"It's my neighbor's," she answered with a smile. "She's very kind."

Bruce narrowed his eyes by a fraction but didn't press the matter. "Why did you come out here today?"

Selina gestured to the backseat, and when Bruce took in the sight of the many paper bags brimming with food, his eyes softened so much it was almost unbearable.

"Don't be too touched," Selina said with a roll of her eyes. "You paid for it all. But I didn't save your life in Gotham to watch you slowly kill yourself because nobody ever taught you how to feed yourself."

His eyes became even softer somehow, and she couldn't look into them for too long before she felt her heart start pumping erratically. The smile he gave her made it even worse. "Thank you."

She needed to change the subject. "So, where are you going?"

"No idea. A hotel, I guess."

She wanted to ask why he'd been fired for unreliability, but it wasn't hard to figure out after what he'd told her yesterday about his debilitating headaches that left him incapacitated for days. She took in his thinner-than-usual appearance, imagined him curled in bed in between throwing up due to the migraines-on-steroids that he'd described to her, helpless and alone, and the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just come live with me."

He seemed as surprised as she was by her offer, and they stared at one another for a moment before he spoke. "I don't want to be a burden -"

"Spare me," she rolled her eyes again. "There's no shame in needing some help every once in awhile. And if your 'headaches' are as bad as you say they are, I wouldn't be turning down anyone's help."

He stared out in front of him towards the guest house through the windshield, a moment of silence passing before he nodded. "Okay."

"Good," she said, turning her eyes forward. "You can follow me back to my place, then."

He nodded. "Thanks."

She gave him a sideways glance. "Don't thank me yet. I've been told I'm hell to live with."

Bruce grinned and opened the car door. "I'm sure I'll manage."

He then dashed back out into the rain, disappearing inside the house to retrieve the rest of his rather scarce belongings. She kept her hands wrapped around the bottom of the steering wheel, musing that an hour ago, she was merely trying to help a man not die from starvation, and now she suddenly had a roommate.

She'd been enjoying living on her own for the first time in quite awhile, but she had a feeling she wouldn't mind Bruce's presence in her home. In fact, the thought of it brought a familiar, pleasant tingling underneath her skin.

Oh, the possibilities.

Then Bruce reappeared, clutching another small bag and what looked like the painting she'd delivered yesterday, wrapped up in scraps of paper, and with a nod to her he jumped inside his car.

They were only on the road for a matter of minutes before Bruce's speedy little car passed her up in a blur of sleek black chrome and took the lead away from her. She shook her head and called him a few choice names under her breath, but managed to cut him off once they were on a four-lane highway and then overtook him. It didn't last long, however, and when they reached a red light, he stopped in the lane next to her and rolled down his window to shoot her an amused, almost devilish look that she returned. He was clearly enjoying herself, and as soon as the light changed, he flew forward and passed her, disappearing from her view within seconds.

When she pulled into her apartment complex's parking lot, he was already parked outside of her door leaning against his car, surrounded by a group of three small neighborhood boys who were ogling the car with open mouths and wide eyes while they sat perched on bicycles. She parked the SUV in front of the owner's apartment and walked to the backseat, retrieving several bags and then turning around to find Bruce inches away. He took the bags from her arms and grinned, "Good drive."

"I'm sure it was," she replied, grabbing the rest of the food and walking past him to the door. His hair was dry now and had a slight wave to it, and she tried to ignore how good this looked with his still-unshaven jaw as she reached in her bag at the door for her keys. She pushed aside the gun that she'd taken to placing in her purse rather than under her clothes when she was around Bruce to avoid him invariably disarming her if he started feeling around for whatever reason, and finally found her keys.

Once inside, she dropped the bags on her kitchen counter and began putting the food away, a task that only took a few moments. When she was done she turned to find Bruce standing in the doorway of the kitchen, phone out and apparently texting somebody.

She wanted to ask who he could possibly be texting, but she thought better of it when he dropped the phone into his pocket and looked up at her.

_Well_, she thought to herself,_ this isn't awkward at all_. "Hungry?"

"Very," he admitted.

"Go get the rest of your things," she said, "and I'll make us lunch."

She saw the smile out of the corner of her eye as she turned away, and she was glad he did as she suggested before he saw the smile creep up on her own lips.

But her mood quickly turned more serious. It felt like a very domestic situation, and as she assembled a quick meal of sandwiches and a large salad, she almost began to second guess the hastily agreed upon arrangement. The possibilities she'd mused on earlier were all still very possible and still very pleasant sounding, but now there were a lot of unknowns popping into her head as well, and she despised anything unknown.

She was still feeling a bit uneasy after Bruce had practically inhaled the food she'd set in front of him. She wasn't even halfway through her own portion yet.

"Just so you know," Selina said, "I'm not going to be your maid. I'm going to teach you the basics of cooking and then you're going to take care of yourself."

Bruce smiled. "Where did you learn to cook?"

"Like a lot of things I've learned, I taught myself," she replied. "It's not difficult, believe it or not."

"I find that hard to believe."

Selina tried not to laugh. "Such a typical man."

When she got up to place their dishes in the sink, she noticed him pulling out his phone and composing another text. Her curiosity was definitely peaked, but it wasn't her business whom he spoke to, so she still didn't say anything.

She turned on the water in the sink to begin washing the dishes but then hands were on hers, and she was being gently pushed away.

"Let me clean up," Bruce said, his hands lingering on hers. "It's only fair."

She wouldn't dare argue with someone offering to do dishes for her, so she nodded and slipped away from him, heading upstairs to her bathroom.

Once she reached her destination, se closed the door and examined her reflection in the mirror above the sink. She grabbed a comb and ran it through her straight locks, thinking on how Bruce left his belongings near the couch downstairs, and she wondered if he would actually spend a single night sleeping on it rather than in her bed. Surely he would insist on taking the couch, ever the gentleman, but it seemed a moot point by now, after all that had transpired between the two of them.

She knew that any other girl would want a label, a definition of what they were, especially now that they would be living together, but Selina didn't care to seek such things. They defied all labels anyway, and they probably always would, so she didn't know why a relationship between them would be any different.

Eventually she left the bathroom and entered her bedroom, where she stripped off her warmer clothes in favor of something less covering in her warm apartment. She had just stepped into a pair of black fitted jeans when Bruce's voice wafted in through the doorway.

"Do you own any clothes that aren't black?"

Tank top in her hands, she turned towards him and replied, "Do you?"

"Not a lot," he said, stepping inside the room. "But you look good in black."

His eyes dropped down to the black bra she was wearing, and she continued to hold her top in her hands rather than put it on. "You're not the first to say so."

He stepped forward and reached out a hand to push her hair behind her ear, and her senses were assaulted with his distinct scent mixed with the lingering smell of rain on his hair and dish soap on his hands, an interesting combination.

"Do you really plan to do your sleeping on my couch, Mr. Wayne?"

"Are you really going to call me by last name, Selina?" he countered, getting even closer. "Don't you think we're a bit past the formalities?"

"Whatever you say, Bruce. Care to answer my question?"

"I'll sleep wherever you want me to," he murmured, "except for the floor."

"Darn," she grinned before kissing him.

It was the first kiss she'd instigated between them since their last kiss in Gotham, though it surely wouldn't be the last. His hands were on her hips and hers wound in his hair while his facial growth scraped against her smooth skin as they kissed, and it was a slower kiss than usual, different somehow, though neither of them were interested in analyzing why.

She couldn't deny the magnetism between them, and how she could barely stand to be in the same room as Bruce without touching him. She could clearly see how her days could easily become a hazy blur of sex and barely anything else while they stayed under the same roof, and this seemed to be a perfectly acceptable idea at the moment.

Their slow kiss became a frantic one in moments, and soon Selina was on her back in bed, underneath Bruce's weight and pulling at his shirt, and in another swift moment, their bare top halves were pressed together and Selina had flipped them over.

She tore her lips away from his and trailed them along his neck, moving lower until they grazed over a circular scar that marred his right shoulder. She kissed it softly and then kissed his mouth again, allowing him to move her to her side, so that they were facing one another.

Their legs tangled together and his bad knee rubbed enticingly between her legs while his hand worked on her breast, and she began yanking at the remaining clothes that separated them when his teasing became to much to bear.

But as soon as the annoying fabric was gone and he was hovering over her once more, about to slide inside of her, a phone rang from the floor and he froze.

It wasn't her phone, and she looked up at him as they both panted, neither moving a muscle for a moment until Bruce spoke. "I have to take that."

Then he was up, grabbing his pants and digging in the pockets for his phone, which he answered as he hurried from the room. She watched him disappear in disbelief, laughing humorlessly as she turned her eyes to the ceiling. He'd have to pay for this one.

She moved quietly into the hallway to eavesdrop, but she didn't hear him anywhere in the apartment. A quick peek out of her bedroom window revealed him to be outside, clad only in his trousers, hanging up his phone. She rolled her eyes and retreated to the bathroom, locking the door and opting for a shower in lieu of the much more exciting activity she'd been planning to do moments earlier.

She locked the door and planned to take her time, but she was only halfway through with washing her hair when she heard the sound of the doorknob jiggling and eventually turning. She ignored how her pulse picked up when the shower curtain shifted and a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her from behind.

"I hope that was one hell of an important call," Selina said as Bruce's lips found her neck.

"It was," he murmured against her ear, hands running down the length of her body. "Sorry."

She turned around and leaned her head back under the water, rinsing the conditioner from her hair while he kissed the exposed curve of her throat. "Was it the same person you've been texting?"

"Yes," he replied, a flick of his tongue sending shivers down her spine.

She straightened up and wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him. "Who?" she asked before running her tongue along his bottom lip.

"A friend," he hissed as her hand wrapped around his rock-hard length and moved maddeningly slowly along it.

"You don't have friends," she pointed out, enjoying the way his suddenly heavy eyes burned into hers. "It's someone in Gotham, isn't it?"

He moved against her, but she refused to pick up the pace. "Do we really have to talk about this now?"

She released him and stepped back, standing under the water once more and putting much too large of a distance between them. "Of course not."

He only stared at the sight of her for a moment before he swooped her up in his arms and shoved her against the wall to their right. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she smiled, "Careful with your back, Bruce."

He shifted them just slightly and entered her, causing her to let out a gasp she couldn't contain. "Don't worry about me."

She held on to a bar over her head with one arm and kept the other around his neck, struggling to breathe as they kissed and he moved in and out of her, the angle working wonders for her, but she still managed to keep enough of her head to press him further. "You shouldn't keep secrets from me."

"I won't when you don't keep secrets from me," he retorted after biting her lower lip.

"Where's the fun in that," she said breathlessly, almost going cross-eyed as his thrusts grew deeper and faster.

"I'm only playing by your rules," he groaned, holding her up with one arm and pressing his other hand flat against the shower wall.

"You don't know anything about my rules," she retorted, digging her nails into the back of his neck and tightening her legs around him.

He chuckled and silenced her with his lips. Water dripped from his hair to her face and he pushed into her harder, feeling her tighten like a vice around him only a few thrusts later and watching as her mouth dropped open and back arched while she came undone.

If she'd had the ability to peek inside of his head, she would have seen that he was deep in admiration of how beautiful she was, especially during the only moments he'd seen her let her guard down, which was when she was coming apart at the seams for him. She would have seen his fascination with her, and his burning desire to break through her walls and defenses to catch a glimpse of who she was underneath, who he _knew_ she was underneath.

But as it was, she couldn't see any of it, and when she opened her eyes, she saw that his dark ones were almost as soft as they had been earlier when they'd spoken in her neighbor's car, though it seemed nearly impossible for such softness to coexist with the unhidden fire burning inside of them. They stared at one another for a short but potent moment before he suddenly buried his face into her shoulder and found his own release.

She kept her legs around him after he'd stilled inside of her, feeling his chest heave against hers and running her fingers through his soaked hair. Eventually he released his grip on her and her feet found the floor once more, and he gave her a gentle kiss on her lips as he looked into her eyes.

Even though she felt utterly limp and her every muscle felt like a useless pile of jelly now, her heart still began to beat irregularly like it did earlier, and for the same reason. The look he was giving her was unbearable, and she felt like she might be crushed under the weight of it if she didn't run away, so she did.

She grabbed a towel and found refuge in her bedroom, where she stayed for a few moments while she willed her heart to be still. Nobody had ever looked at her the way he had several times now today, and for some reason it terrified her. She couldn't decipher the looks, and he did an annoyingly good job of masking the emotions behind them, only giving her a glimpse so vague that it was nearly useless.

She'd never been in love, but there had been quite a few men who had fallen in love with her. She either crushed them without remorse or ignored them, because they were all worthless idiots in her eyes, but this was something new and different.

She heard the shower shut off, and she dressed quickly. Before he emerged from the bathroom, she'd nicked his keys and was speeding away in his car.

* * *

Distance ended up being exactly what Selina needed, giving her time to think and calm down from her brief moment of panic.

When she returned to the apartment, an odd burning smell greeted her as soon as she stepped inside. She walked into the kitchen with a crinkled nose to find Bruce staring hopelessly at instructions on the back of a box while a pan of burned meat smoked away on the stove.

She dropped his keys on the counter and he looked up, immediately handing her the box. "I tried."

She took the box and glanced at the pan. "How did you manage to burn a pound of beef that badly?"

"I didn't want to undercook it," he shrugged as she turned off the burner and went to get more meat out of her refrigerator. "Enjoy your joyride?"

"Yes, actually, I did," she smiled. "Now be quiet and watch what I do. It takes talent to screw up a boxed dinner that says 'just add meat' on the box, by the way."

"Well, I'm nothing if not talented," Bruce replied with a small grin.

She rolled her eyes.

* * *

Their night was quieter than their day, mostly because Bruce decided to spend it turning her living room into his personal gym. Selina peeked at him a few times, noting the concentration on his face as he pushed himself more than anyone so physically battered should have, but she also knew from what he'd told her before that sometimes it was the best thing he could do for his body. It went on for several hours, and Selina came down from her bedroom and stood on the staircase when he had finally given himself a break.

"Better?" she asked.

"Much," he replied in between taking great gulps of water from a large bottle.

"I'll be in bed," she said. "And just so you know, I think you'll find my bed a lot more accommodating than the couch."

She then sauntered back up the staircase, and was unsurprised when he crawled into bed beside her about ten minutes later.

He was warm and still a little sweaty when his arms snaked around her, and the tingle inside of her gut signaled the start of round two. It was dark enough in the room that she couldn't see his eyes, and this suited her perfectly well as the familiar dance began again.

* * *

Three hours later, Selina's peaceful sleep turned against her when she found herself standing inside a sewer, dressed in a leather bodysuit and mask, watching a familiar and horrifying scene unfold before her.

It was almost worse reliving it the second, third, and thirtieth times around. She'd lost count by now, though by day she could scarcely admit to the nightmares existing at all, even to herself. But they came, not every night but at least every week, each time the same. Like a reel from a film, she watched as Bane broke the man she'd betrayed to save her own skin, and guilt and horror ate her alive while she endured hearing the screams of pain and cracks of bones that she didn't know belonged to Bruce Wayne until the very end of the dream.

She watched the mask crack and reveal Bruce's handsome, bloodied, beaten face, and she awoke with a start, heart racing and in a cold sweat, like always.

This time, however, she looked to her left and saw the man she'd just watched be savagely beaten lying next to her, but she instantly realized something wasn't right. Sweat was dripping down his brow and his fists were clenched at his sides, and his breath was coming in ragged but muffled gasps. She sat up and narrowed her eyes, looking at his face and finding it scrunched up and strained. It was hard to believe he was still sleeping.

She shook him gently. "Bruce."

He didn't respond, so she shook him again. "Bruce, wake up."

This time, he woke up. And he immediately lunged at her and pinned her against the bed with his forearm against her throat.

She couldn't have been caught more off guard, and she was scrambling to get him off of her before she suffocated but luckily he seemed to instantly realize what he'd done and removed his arm after only a split second. His eyes became wide and horrified.

She coughed and sat up, pushing him away as his mouth dropped open. "Selina - my God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please -"

She wasn't hurt, but she was more than a little startled and confused. "I'm fine, Bruce, stop -what were you dreaming that made you do that? Does that happen often?"

"No, it's never - it's never happened, but nobody's ever woken me up from that before," he said, eyes on her neck. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

"It takes a little more than that to hurt me," she replied, heart rate slowly turning to normal. "But what were you dreaming about?"

He paused, pushing back his hair. "I don't..."

"You don't want to talk about it," she finished for him flatly. "Of course you don't."

"Selina -"

"You obviously need some help," she interrupted him, "and you won't get any if you don't talk about it."

Bruce was quiet for a moment. Eventually he muttered, "I'll go to the couch. I'm not letting this happen again."

"Bruce," she said after he left her bed, "please, don't make what you're going through harder than it has to be. Don't bury whatever it is that's causing this."

He glanced at her but his eyes were heavily guarded. "Goodnight, Selina."

He then disappeared, and Selina slumped against her pillows. Suddenly, she didn't think she'd ever dread her own nightmares in quite the same way again.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N #1: ahhhhh thank you everyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited, you guys are all rockstars. Just to state outright, before you read this chapter, I have only seen TDKR once (although I'd go see it once a week if I had my way), so if a few small details in this chapter are off, I apologize - if anyone catches anything, let me know and I'll fix it. That goes for any chapter, actually - I'm bound to forget something along the way until the DVD comes out and I have the movie memorized (LOL)**

Selina somehow knew as soon as she woke up the next morning that Bruce had left. She knew it before she went downstairs and found it empty, and before she peeked out the window to find his car gone. However, his clothes from yesterday were scattered along her living room floor, and she rolled her eyes in annoyance as she picked them up and tossed them into a corner. She felt badly for his poor butler, having to spend his life cleaning up after the man, and his was not a job she was interested in taking over**.**

She tried not to think about last night while she made herself her usual small breakfast, so naturally, she couldn't think of anything but it. There was so much she wanted to know, so much that was unsaid between herself and Bruce, and last night was a prime example. She had several decent guesses as to what his nightmare had been about, and she wasn't frightened by his very brief half-asleep attack on her - she simply felt the odd desire to help him, and to help him, he needed to start opening up to her. But she couldn't count on that happening, not yet.

She'd felt this way once before, when she'd gone back to save him during that final fight in the heart of Gotham. It was a peculiar tugging in her chest that she'd only felt a handful of times in her life, when she felt truly moved to help somebody who needed it. The thing was, she would always blame herself for how Bruce had been broken, no matter how much he seemed not to, and it was only fair that she help fix what she helped break. Maybe once upon a time she would have felt differently, but that was of no matter now.

She drank her coffee at her small table and eyed her phone warily as it sat innocently in front of her. She wanted to know where he was, but she wasn't about to call or text him either. He would be off doing whatever it was Bruce Wayne did these days, perhaps trying to find work again or something else similarly pointless for a man of his wealth, and he would come back when he pleased. When he did, then maybe they could talk.

She dressed and walked to the gallery an hour later, Bruce's mother's pearls hanging around her long neck and gun secured to her thigh, and opened the store. She liked days where she opened, because it was only her for the first two hours, and it was peaceful, free of the annoying chatter of her co-workers who never seemed to get the message that she didn't care to be friends with them.

The morning passed by uneventfully, and she was on the phone with a client when the doors clicked open and somebody walked inside. She didn't bother to look up, scribbling down the phone number of the woman she was speaking to when a deep, greasy voice wafted through the air. "Selina Kyle."

She'd know that voice anywhere. She muttered a few words into the phone and dropped it into its cradle, raising her eyes to the man who stood before her, separated from her only by a thin glass counter.

He was tall and not at all handsome, dark blonde hair turning gray near his hairline that was just beginning to recede, framing a face that was leathery and weathered-looking. He was one of the last people she ever expected to see again, especially here in Italy, and his gray eyes were as hard and cold as she remembered. "You must have the wrong girl."

His thin lips stretched into a smile that revealed yellowing, cracked teeth, which was something she did not remember about him. "Allow me to rephrase - 'Kitty Carter' it is now, am I correct?"

"What do you want?" Selina snapped.

"After all this time, I was counting on a warmer greeting than this," he said, his lingering smile slightly nauseating her. "How many years has it been, Selina?"

"Not enough," she smiled through gritted teeth. "Why are you here?"

He leaned a hand against the counter and gave a slight shrug. "I once gave my best student a short list of countries that would be ideal to start over in if she ever got in over her head, and Italy was always the one I knew would suit her best."

Selina's gut began twisting and the gun under her skirt felt suddenly heavy, like it was itching to find her hand. "Don't play around, Marcus. What do you want?"

"You never were one for small talk," the man said, never losing his grin. "I'm here because you have something I need."

"And what's that?"

"What else but the clean slate?"

Selina's eyes narrowed. "You can't possibly think I'm stupid enough to still have that. I tossed in the ocean the second I was done with it."

She didn't bother to ask how he knew she'd had it in the first place, because it became somewhat of a general knowledge to Gotham's underworld that she'd been after it prior to the chaos that broke out last year, and Marcus Michaels was a longtime resident of that underworld. He was unfazed by her words. "You've always been an excellent liar, Selina."

"Stop calling me that," Selina whispered ferociously. "I don't have what you want, and I don't know how you found me, but -"

"Oh, I never lost you," he said, apparently amused. "I've always kept tabs on you. You've always been my favorite. You know that."

The way he said the word favorite brought back sickening, unwelcome memories in Selina's head, and she was losing patience. "Get out of here."

"I will," he said, "but I'll be back. Because I need what you have. And I know you're lying. I know you better than you know yourself. I always have, and I always will. Don't forget that, Selina."

His eyes bore into hers and an anger that was years old resurfaced inside of her, boiling silently inside of her veins as he turned and walked out of the building, leaving her heart pounding and head racing.

To her further dismay and dread, she saw Bruce's unmistakable figure walk inside the gallery just as Marcus was exiting it. There was eye contact between the two that she could see all the way from where she stood, and her heart sank.

Behind Bruce walked in another employee of the gallery, whose shift began in a few moments, and Selina walked out from behind the counter and met Bruce halfway. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to take you to lunch," he said, caught off guard by her tone and hardened eyes. He furrowed his brows. "What's wrong?"

"We have to leave," she said, walking past Bruce and leaving the gallery, and her job, without a second thought.

"Hey - wait a minute," he said, jogging to catch up with her and joining her on the sidewalk. "What happened?"

"Get in the car and drive," she demanded, rushing to the passenger door of his car that was parked on the street.

He didn't argue, and when they were safely inside the car, Bruce spoke again. "What the hell is going on?"

"Somebody found me, and he saw you when you walked inside the gallery. Now not only is he after me, he knows you're not dead."

Bruce only stared at her, hand stalling after placing his keys into the ignition.

"The tall blonde guy," she explained. "Marcus Michaels."

"Marcus Michaels," Bruce repeated, narrowing his eyes. "From -"

"Gotham, yes," she finished impatiently. "Will you just drive? We need to leave tonight."

He pressed down on the gas and sped onto the road. "What is it about him that has you so scared?"

"I'm not scared," she quickly said. "But I fought as hard as I did for that clean slate so that I'd never have to see him or the rest of Gotham's scum ever again, and I have no intention of that changing. Plus," she added after a brief pause, "the fact that he saw you changes things."

Bruce didn't bother arguing, because he knew the man had recognized him. He looked every bit of Bruce Wayne today, minus his casual clothing, as his hair was trimmed and his face was cleanly shaven. "What does he want with you?"

"The clean slate," she replied. "I don't even want to know what he would do with it if he got the chance."

Marcus Michaels had been imprisoned for several years before last for running a prostitution ring that included children, but he'd managed to elude recapture so far after Bane's mass prisoner breakout. It was only one of his many crimes, as the man also dealt in drugs, thievery and everything else, but the prostitution ring had been the crime to keep him behind bars until now.

Bruce knew this because he had been keeping an eye on the news out of Gotham, but his attention had been on the escape of another prisoner, one whom he had much more experience dealing with than Michaels. He'd thought that the man looked familiar when he'd passed him, but he hadn't made the connection until Selina said his name. "Do you still have it?"

"Of course I do," Selina replied. "I told him I destroyed it but he didn't believe me." Her skin crawled just thinking about how he'd looked at her during their conversation.

"I don't think we should leave," Bruce said. "If he managed to track you here he'll track you again."

"So what do you suggest?" she asked with a clear attitude.

Bruce glanced at her as he weaved through traffic. "We can lure him out and make sure he gets what he deserves."

Selina almost choked on the breath she was drawing in. "You can't be serious." When he didn't answer, she continued. "It's not our responsibility. It's not _your_ responsibility -"

"No, but if we have a chance to help, we should do it," Bruce said, swinging the car on a sharp left turn and pulling into the parking lot of a cafe.

"You just can't let go of your old life, can you?" Selina accused.

He shrugged, parking and pulling out the keys from the ignition. "I'm not interested in running from some piece of garbage like him. It'll be simple."

Selina rolled her eyes. "When has anything you've done ever been simple?"

"All you'll have to do is tell him you've changed your mind and that you'll give him the clean slate, and cops will be waiting."

"He'll know that's a trap," she said, shaking her head. "He knows I'd never hand it over willingly."

Bruce gave her a strange look. "Exactly how well do you know him?"

That was a question she never wanted to answer. "Well enough to know that we should just cut our losses and go."

His eyes lingered upon her for a moment, recognizing that there was a story there that she clearly did not want to recite. She was shaken, and it took a lot to shake her up. "We'll talk more later and figure it out."

He then got out of the car and came around to open her door, and when he gently helped pull her to her feet afterwards, she looked around as if she was just now realizing where he'd taken her. "Where are we?"

"We don't need to stay long," he said, hand on the small of her back as he led her inside the cafe. She didn't say anything in response, her mind completely absent as Bruce led her to a small table on the cafe's terrace and pulled out a chair for her to sit in.

He ordered them drinks, and it was a moment before she found her voice once more. "Why did you show up at my work to take me to lunch here?"

"We aren't here for the food," Bruce said, eyes leaving her face to scan the other tables.

She followed his eyes across the room and then gave him a puzzled look. "I hate it when you're vague."

Two glasses of water were placed before them, and Bruce nodded his thanks to the server. "I know."

Selina sighed and fingered the rim of her glass of water, willing herself to calm down. It took her a moment, as well as a great deal of willpower, but she managed to rein in her disgust and anxiety and return to her usual cool and controlled state of mind. It wasn't easy, but over the years she learned to control her emotions and use them to her advantage, and despite the fact that right now she wanted nothing more than to go find Marcus and use him as target practice, her exterior became one of utter calm.

Bruce kept mostly silent, glancing around the cafe every so often, eventually taking to reading a newspaper that he seemed to produce out of thin air. Selina became bored quickly, still having no idea why they were even here, and after awhile she began trying to read his newspaper from it's upside down angle.

He was reading an article buried deep in the back of the world news section, all of it in Italian, and the picture above it of a crazed-looking man in garish makeup was enough explanation for what had gotten his attention.

"So they still haven't caught the Joker," Selina said quietly, watching Bruce's eyes flit over the printed words.

He nodded, not looking up from the paper. "He disappeared in the riots, after Arkham fell. They're hoping he was killed, but they haven't found any evidence one way or the other."

Selina stared at him for a moment, noting how the lines on his face were more pronounced under the strain of his furrowed brow and whatever it was going through his mind at the moment. "It's not your problem, Bruce."

"I didn't say it was."

Selina gave him a look, but at that moment he raised his eyes and they met hers briefly before moving just past her, where they softened as a small smile crossed his lips.

Their server approached but she she glanced behind her, not entirely unsurprised to see Alfred sitting alone at a table just across from theirs, shock evident on his face before it gave way to visible relief and joy. The older man's eyes began glistening with unabashed tears, and Selina turned back to Bruce, who for the moment, almost looked as if he was at some sort of peace. She knew it wouldn't last long, but it looked good on him.

"Does this explain the mysterious texting?"

"Partially," Bruce admitted quietly, after giving his old butler and only father figure a nod.

"It could only be a handful of people who would know you're alive and could have helped you arrange this touching moment."

"Very true," Bruce replied.

"Still not going to tell me?"

"Not unless you answer a few of my questions, too," he said.

And this was what it was always going to come down to. She was never going to peel back any of his layers until she allowed him to do the same.

Bruce and Alfred didn't say a word to one another, but she knew they'd spoken volumes to each other in the short moments they'd shared in the cafe. It was as touching a moment as Selina had ever seen, but her mind was preoccupied with the potentially looming crisis on the horizon. When they left the cafe and returned to Bruce's car, they rode in silence until Bruce returned them to the art gallery.

She gave him a pointed look when the car stalled and said, "There's no point in me coming back here."

"There's no point in not coming back."

She sighed and turned her eyes forward to the road. "I don't want to stay. Everything in me is screaming that we should leave."

"Maybe if you explained to me why, I'd be able to understand, but right now your reactions aren't making any sense to me."

Selina closed her eyes and, against her better judgement, decided that this was the time to give a little. Just a little bit. "Fine, I'll tell you. But I'm not going back to work today."

"Fair enough."

Bruce put the car in drive and sped back onto the road as Selina began to tell the story she'd never told another soul prior to this moment. "I ran away from home when I was thirteen. I had nowhere to go and I ended up on the streets. I was starving after the first few days and I tried to steal from a man who turned out to be Marcus Michaels. He ended up taking me under his wing, as he called it."

Bruce glanced at Selina, whose porcelain face was wearing a grimace as if she was tasting something particularly unpleasant. "He was nice to me, and he took me to this disgusting apartment and gave me my first meal in days. He told me he could help me. I believed him. By the next night I had my first john."

She saw Bruce's hands tighten on the steering wheel at her words, and his jaw clenched, but she pressed on, wanting the story over with. "But it was also my only john. It was this middle aged, married pervert, and as soon as he touched me I lost it. I knocked him out with a cheap vase from the hotel we were at and took his wallet after he passed out. After that, Marcus decided to train me as a thief and a fighter instead of a prostitute."

In record timing, they were pulling into her apartment complex. Bruce parked and turned off the car, but neither made any move to get out. He watched her as she spoke once more. "I spent years with him. He called me his favorite, told me he loved me. Everything he thought I wanted to hear. It was bearable when I thought I needed him, but once I realized the extent of what he was doing and what he was doing to little girls who kept getting younger and younger, I started looking for ways out. When I did finally leave, I took all the girls with me that I could and I burned down everything he owned." She paused long enough to take in a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't have to spell out the nature of her relationship with Michaels. She thought it should have been fairly obvious. "He tried to have me killed a few times, and obviously failed. But he never stopped being obsessed with me, and eventually he started trying to 'go into business' with me, as he called it, until he finally went to prison. You'll be happy to know I was a crucial anonymous source in that case. He wouldn't have been convicted without my information, and the girls wouldn't have testified against him without my help. It's the only time I've ever worked with the system."

Bruce was indeed happy about this surprising detail, but it was the only part of the story that didn't completely nauseate him and make him want to beat Marcus Michaels to a bloody pulp. "Why did you run away?"

"Didn't I tell you enough of my life story for one day already?"

Bruce turned his eyes to the steering wheel, but Selina briefly closed hers before saying, "My mom died when I was ten and my dad was an abusive drunk who used me as a punching bag after she died. One night things got particularly bad. He was bashing my head against a kitchen counter, I managed to get ahold of a knife, I stabbed him in the side and ran away. I never looked back, and I've never heard from him since."

Bruce's eyes betrayed the horror he felt for her, but this made Selina squirm inside. She hated sympathy and she especially hated that Bruce now knew so much about her life. She was cursing at herself silently and wishing she could take it all back when his voice interrupted her thoughts.

"It's John Blake that I've been talking to. He sort of... inherited what I left behind of Batman."

"John Blake?" she repeated. "That prick who arrested me?"

Bruce smirked a little at this. "He actually goes by his first name, Robin, these days - to a few people, anyway. I haven't been in contact with him for long."

"And what's the point of being in contact with him?" she asked. "Are you hoping to hear that another crisis is popping up in Gotham so you have an excuse to go back and be the hero all over again?"

"No," he said firmly. "That part of my life is over."

"Why do I find that so hard to believe?" Selina asked rhetorically.

"It's the truth, whether you believe it or not," Bruce said. "Let's go inside. My story's going to take a bit longer than yours did."

They exited the car and were at the door to her apartment in seconds, but when Selina went to place her key inside the lock on the doorknob, the entire knob fell off and clanked to the ground.

After this, neither were particularly surprised to find that her apartment had been turned over and torn to shreds. Neither said a word, both gathering what little of their belongings were still intact in mere moments (and checking said remaining items for bugs or GPS devices with a gadget Selina had acquired after Bruce tracked her the same way the last year) before heading straight back to the car.

When the engine purred to life once more, Selina sighed and said, "I liked that place. What a shame."

"Just out of curiosity," Bruce said as they pulled out of the parking lot, "where is the clean slate?"

"Do you really want to know? Wouldn't you rather have plausible deniability?"

Bruce looked at her as if she had never said anything more preposterous. She grinned and, contrary to his expectations, lifted her skirt and slipped her hand between her thighs, which distracted him into almost sideswiping a vehicle in the neighboring lane before she produced her gun from its holster.

She was amused by his reaction, and when he then stopped at a red light, she ejected the clip from the gun and pressed her fingers into the empty cavity, something made a clicking noise, and then she produced a small USB device.

"This gun was a gift from an old friend," Selina said as she put the gun back together. "It's come in handy quite a bit."

"Well," Bruce said, "I still don't like it, but I guess I'll stop disarming you."

"That will be a relief," Selina replied. "Where are we going?"

"Out of the city," Bruce answered.

"Good."

"But only while we figure out a plan."

Selina rolled her eyes. "I'd much rather just track Marcus down and take care of him myself."

"A minute ago you wanted to run away from him."

"First of all, we've both earned the right to run away from anything and anyone we please, and second, as long as I'm being forced to try to bring him to justice, I'd rather it be my own personal brand of it."

He glanced sideways at his new traveling companion. "I used to think something along the same lines as that."

"Bruce Wayne? Believe in vengeance over justice? I don't believe it."

Bruce accelerated as they reached the highway, or _superstrada_, that would take them out of Florence and into relative safety for a night, and he gave her one more glance as he said, "Have you heard of the League of Shadows?"

**A/N #2: *sniffs the air* is that... a _plot_ I'm smelling? I think it is :P Oh yeah, and I'm in the process of researching and reading the multitude of Batman comics out there (I'll be the first to admit that I have a lot to read and learn before I can call myself a legitimate Batman fan rather than a Dark Knight trilogy fangirl) and I used one of Catwoman's origin stories as inspiration for Selina's background here, though I also tried to make it original, since we don't know anything really about movie Selina's background and that leaves a lot of wiggle room. I couldn't resist drawing a parallel between herself and Bruce by having her younger self break out on her own by burning down her mentor's house and help bring him to justice. But that's where the similarities will probably end. Anyway - just wanted to give a bit of an explanation. Let me know what you think! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Two updates in two days... yay me! This is to make up for the fact that I'll be MIA next week due to me renewing my vows on Monday (it's gonna be a full wedding do-over cuz our first was thrown together in like three weeks and pretty much sucked, so it's a big deal haha), and I'll try to for one more update before I go bye bye til probably next Friday or later. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, I am addicted to your feedback and I'm not ashamed to admit it :p thank you to everlovely and RawrAndI for your feedback regarding the comic angle - hope everyone enjoys this chapter. More limey than lemony, but I have several lemon plans for the next chapter, heehee, so this should suffice until then. You all should know that this is like my dirtiest story ever, and I blame the fact that while writing this I have to imagine Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne as I write the character, and, well, I can't help it. That man is like... yeah. *drools* Anyway. Shutting up now. :p**

By the time their hour long trek to a small city called Siena was over, Selina finally found herself in possession of a bit of knowledge about who Bruce Wayne was. Like she had, he had disclosed the early parts of his story to her, covering his childhood, transition to adulthood and training with the League of Shadows abroad, all the way up to his creation of the Batman. It was far more than she thought he'd reveal in the short amount of time, and yet, she knew there was quite a bit more that she hadn't scratched the surface of yet. Still, the mystery of him was a few layers lighter now, and she was missing a few herself. It felt strange, and she felt vulnerable, which was a feeling she detested almost above all others, but it was bearable because she'd gotten something in return.

She had to admit, it was a surprise to learn that he had spent his years away from Gotham as a criminal, stealing food to survive and learning about the mindset of a lawbreaker by living among them and becoming one, albeit in an undercover sort of way. She suppressed a grin when she learned that they had both burned the houses of their mentors and brought them both to justice, though she wished Marcus had met the same fiery fate as Ra's al Ghul.

She did notice, however, that there was one part of the story he had been vague about. There was a "friend" he'd spoken of, who he'd known since his early childhood, who had played a fairly large role in helping to steer him in the direction that brought him to the Batman, but he did not give this person a name or even use any pronouns to define their gender. Selina let it be, fascinated by his story and intrigued by another one of his revelations, that he'd constructed the facade of being an irresponsible, obnoxious playboy for all those years and didn't even drink alcohol. When she'd pointed out the wine he'd bought on their date, he in turn asked her if she'd seen him actually drink any.

"So you really weren't with a different girl every night all those years?" she'd asked. "And the rumors of supermodel orgies at Wayne Manor weren't true?"

He'd scoffed at that. "Like Alfred would have allowed such debauchery. To answer the first part of your question - I wasn't celibate, but I wasn't the man-whore I pretended to be either."

This may have been the hardest thing of all to believe, but he had no reason to lie. She'd known for a long time that he wasn't the vapid caricature that she'd read about in the tabloids for years, but now she wondered what woman had had his heart for those years that he would have chosen to not spread himself around town the way any other handsome, rich playboy would have done. That was the only logical explanation, and she suspected the unnamed friend may have been the answer to her unasked question.

"You must have left a lot of your dates disappointed," Selina had mused.

"It became a contest to them," he'd replied. "They all fought to be the one to get me in bed."

"I take it the contest had a few winners, though."

He'd shrugged. "Only a few, and none who meant anything."

Selina could have said the same for all of her adult life. The similarities were getting a bit unnerving.

When they reached Siena they left the car at a large free lot outside the city walls, as no vehicles were allowed inside the city limits but for a few hours in the mornings, and the quiet walk that ensued allowed for Selina to further overthink things.

She dragged a small suitcase of her belongings behind her as she came to terms with how far she and Bruce had come from where they were in only hours, and although they were still miles away from anything resembling any definition of normal or open with one another, she couldn't deny several obvious truths.

The first was that clearly they were starting to trust one another. It was nothing short of an Olympian feat to extract Selina's biography from her lips, and while she certainly hadn't disclosed it entirely, Bruce now knew more about her than anyone besides Holly Robinson back in Gotham did. It was horribly uncomfortable and miserable on one level, but on another, she was relieved that he hadn't run away now that he knew a bit of why she was who she was.

The second truth was that she hadn't once considered not staying with Bruce, despite the fact that she disagreed with him on how to proceed. This was slightly unprecedented, and yet, she hadn't second guessed it until now. The strange thing was, he hadn't seemed to consider them not staying together, either.

Thirdly, he was now looking at her differently than he ever had before. His eyes were unbearably soft like they had been a few times before, but now there were even more indecipherable things lurking beneath them. It wasn't sympathy, or pity, and she was happy about that. But she couldn't seem to tell what was on his mind, and she never trusted what she couldn't read.

And yet, here she was, strolling down the streets of a tiny Italian city with a man she seemed to trust implicitly and inexplicably, dragging what was left to her name behind her as they trekked to a hotel amidst the city square.

Siena was a tourist-driven city, rich in art and culture, and was a far cry from the large city they had just escaped. It was now mid-afternoon but it felt like it should be much later in the day, not that it mattered much as they disappeared within a small crowd of photo-snapping tourists. They entered the first hotel they happened upon, and the very second they walked into the spacious and beautiful room they booked, Bruce dropped his duffel bag and began typing on his phone.

Selina had no doubt now as to who he was speaking to, and she took the opportunity to spend a few moments alone in the bathroom.

She splashed her face with some cold water before straightening and letting her gaze fall upon the strand of unassuming, innocent pearls that adorned her neck. She touched one of the orbs absently, musing over how one stolen necklace and one set of fingerprints had begun the journey that had taken her to places she'd never anticipated, though that was usually the way it worked. Sometimes the most powerful catalyst for change was the smallest and most mundane of details, and those once-routine orders of business had been no exception.

A year ago, the idea of accompanying a crippled, damaged and yet still standing Bruce Wayne across Italy as he plotted the downfall of her mentor would have been as preposterous as the notion of her willingly telling her story to the same man as well as showing him the hidden compartment in her pistol where she kept her greatest asset.

But life was preposterous, and it had always had been for her. The challenge was learning how to share her chaotic existence with someone else.

She emerged from the bathroom and found Bruce sitting with his back turned to her on the foot of the bed at the center of the room, down to a white t shirt and jeans that he wore the way few men could, staring at the phone in his hands. Her feet made no noise as she walked across the floor, but he seemed to expect the hand that came down to graze his shoulder.

Her fingers tingled where she touched him, even though there was fabric in the way, and she wasn't sure she would ever understand why he had this effect on her. He clicked his phone off and looked up at her as she walked in front of him, and as their eyes met, she found it almost painful to look at him. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen anything, or anyone, so beautiful in her whole life. He was broken and yet somehow more together than anyone she'd ever known, all things considered, and the scars and damage he carried with him only enhanced the beauty she saw.

Her hand reached out to his face, and the way his eyes bore into hers began to actually make her hurt. It was a pain that centered in her chest, over her heart and possibly within in it and all around it, but it felt good as it ached. Staring at him was like staring at the sun - she knew she would probably go blind if she kept it up, but that seemed inconsequential at the moment.

She lowered herself to his lap and straddled him as he tossed his phone on the bed, his hands automatically resting on her hips.

"We need to talk," he said as she tangled her fingers in his dark hair.

"So let's talk," she said before pressing her lips to his.

He pulled away when her tongue tried to sneak inside of his mouth. "If you don't stop, there won't be any talking at all for a long time."

"Oh, come on," Selina breathed, running her lips along his neck and feeling his pulse quicken under his skin. "It's called multitasking."

He had a chunk of her long hair twisted around his fist as he half-laughed. "You require every bit of my attention, Selina."

She didn't know why, but she absolutely loved the way he said her name. It awakened something within her each time he said it, and it was impossible to ignore. She raised her head and kissed him again, enjoying the way he was crushing the ends of her hair in his hand and kissing her back now, his other hand creeping under the back of her shirt as he held her close.

"Al right," he said as he flipped her to her back and hovered over her, "I think we should give Michaels what he wants."

Selina's eyes widened as Bruce kissed her. Her breath was coming in heavier by the time he moved his lips to her jaw. "Are you insane?"

He kissed a line down the front of her neck. "It wouldn't be the real thing, but he would think it is."

He pulled up Selina's top and she quickly tossed it away. "He's not an idiot."

"No," Bruce said as she pulled his shirt over his head. "But I can program something to look and act exactly as the clean slate does while it gives cops his location and copies every file of whatever computer he plugs it into."

He allowed Selina to grab his arms and push him down to his back, flipping them over. "I told you, he knows I won't give it to him."

"You won't," Bruce said. "I'll be the one to give it to him, under the condition that he agrees to let us live in peace once he has it."

Bruce ripped down the straps of her bra so hard they almost snapped. "He'll kill you once he thinks he has it."

He brought her lips to his in a rough kiss. "You really think after everything I've been through, _he'll_ be the one to kill me?"

"It's a bit different now that you don't have a tank and full body armor," Selina replied, undoing his belt with one hand.

He flipped them over again before she reached her goal of removing his annoying pants. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I'm so done talking," Selina sighed, pushing his pants down from his body with her feet. Bruce grunted his agreement and pulled off her skirt, carefully removing her gun now that he knew what was concealed inside of it and placing it on the floor beside the bed before attacking her again.

When there was nothing left on her body besides the strand of pearls on her neck, he stopped toying with her and got down to business, moving her up the bed and fighting off her efforts to overpower him. She was relentless and did not want to yield, and in the midst of it all she accidentally sent his phone flying off of the bed.

He didn't pay it any mind, but he did lose his patience and then pinned her to the bed with her wrists on either side of her head. Then he was inside of her, and she finally stopped trying to wrestle her way to the top.

It was hard and fast but he managed to somehow be gentle about it, kissing her softly while he held her so tightly she knew she'd bruise, but she didn't protest because she rather liked it. Nothing felt better than his skin on hers and his breath coming in ragged gasps as they kissed, or the way he hissed when she bit his lip or moved her hips a certain way against him. By now they knew well what the other liked, and they were far too efficient, the romp not lasting long enough for either's taste but still leaving them sated and spent.

They lay in silence afterwards, listening to the familiar soundtrack of one another's heavy, slow breathing, still tangled in each other and neither moving a muscle but for the rising and falling of bare chests.

When Selina looked over at Bruce she found him staring at her intently, eyes unbearable again, and the pain in her chest returned. She fought her instinct to flee as she had yesterday, knowing she had nowhere to run to anyway.

"Why do you still have the clean slate?" Bruce asked, his voice finally piercing the silence.

"Why wouldn't I still have it?" she retorted.

His fingers played lightly with the dark hair spilling over her shoulder as he said, "You know that as long as you have it you're a target."

"I think of it as my insurance policy," she shrugged. "I'm not silly enough to think I'll never get myself into trouble again in the future."

"Haven't you had enough trouble for one life?"

"I could ask you the same," she smiled. "Your retirement will be far from trouble-free as long as you're tagging along with me."

He returned her grin and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Believe me, I know that."

"By the way," she said, "I'd keep an eye out now that Michaels knows you're alive."

"My eye is perpetually out."

"I'm sure that's true, but it might be only a matter of time before your secret's out."

Bruce shrugged slightly and flippantly. "I'm not worried. And even if it did get out, I don't think anyone would be that outraged that an irresponsible billionaire faked his death to escape dying in the riots."

"I still don't understand why you faked your death at all. Your secret was safe. You didn't have to let Bruce Wayne die along with Batman."

"Maybe I wanted him to," Bruce replied.

"Maybe I'd believe you if you weren't still obsessing about Gotham and plotting the downfall of Marcus Michaels."

"'Obsessing' is a strong word for reading a newspaper."

"It's more than that and you know it," she said. "And now there's two more people who knows you're alive, as of this afternoon. I'm starting to think you want the secret out."

"Alfred won't tell anyone," Bruce said quietly. "He had to know. I know he blamed himself and I couldn't let him go on thinking he failed my parents."

"But why did you drag me along? You didn't need me there for him to see that you were alive."

Bruce paused at this and she could see him pondering how to answer, all while his fingers grazed lightly over the skin on the small of her back. "Alfred told me last year that when I left the country and was gone those seven years, he would go to Florence once a year and sit at the same cafe, the one that I took you to, drinking the same Fernet Branca, hoping to see me one of those times. He imagined seeing me happy and fulfilled, with a wife and a few kids, knowing I was all right and better off without Gotham. He never wanted me to come back."

She stared at him for a moment before saying, "That's very touching and all, but are you saying I played the role of the imaginary wife?"

"I wanted him to know I wasn't alone," Bruce replied.

Selina traced one of his numerous scars with her index finger, just under his collarbone, and said, "It's eating you alive that the Joker's free, isn't it?"

He didn't answer, looking silently into her eyes instead. She continued, "We could leave tonight. Leave the whole continent. Find a secluded island somewhere nobody will ever find us. I can do my best to make sure you never think about him or Marcus Michaels ever again."

Bruce smiled. "That's tempting. But I know that deep down, you want Michaels brought to justice as much as I do, if not more."

"The difference is, I care about myself more than what happens to him."

"You can say that," Bruce said, "but after everything you did to break free of him and put him in prison, I know it's eating you alive, too."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Selina replied. "We may have a few similarities here and there, Bruce, but I'll never have your hero complex, or a burning desire to risk my life and destroy my body cleaning up the streets of cities that will always be cesspools of crime."

"So say we do nothing. He keeps avoiding capture and gets back into the child prostitution business," Bruce said. "We would both have that on our conscious."

"You think that if he doesn't do it, nobody else will?" she challenged. "The world is full of monsters. There's a hundred to replace each one that gets caught or killed."

"I understand your argument," he said, "but it's flawed. Apathy only breeds more crime and chaos."

Selina closed her eyes briefly before she said, "You have done enough. You've given enough. Batman is dead, and Bruce Wayne is dead. Let John Blake pick up where you left off and just leave the past in the past."

"I am leaving the past in the past. That doesn't mean I can't help rid the world of one last piece of scum before we leave for that secluded island you suggested."

A part of her was surprised he seemed to be okay with her island idea - for some reason, this seemed to smack of a level of commitment she hadn't anticipated - but the other part of her was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "You're like a junkie, but your drug of choice is justice. 'One last piece of scum' will become many if you don't give it up completely."

"It won't," Bruce insisted. "It was different before when I had nothing else to live for, but -"

Suddenly, Bruce seemed to realize what he'd said, and Selina visibly froze. They were still one another's arms, still tangled together and sharing breaths, but now Selina felt like she was quickly overheating and the pain in her chest was worse than ever, triggering her automatic flight response. She willed herself not to move, however, because she knew Bruce was studying her for her reaction to his unwitting confession that she was what he had to live for now, and she didn't want to hurt him.

This brought her panic to a pinnacle. If she was hiding her reaction to spare Bruce pain, then she was deeper into this than she had ever suspected.

The ding of Bruce's phone brought an end to the tense, silent moment, and reluctantly, he unwound his arms from around her body and moved to retrieve the phone from the floor. By the time he had the phone in his hands and returned to his place in the bed, he looked over and found Selina gone in the same moment that he heard the bathroom door click closed.

She leaned over the sink, trying to get herself under control before she had a full-blown panic attack, but nothing she tried worked. It seemed that the man in the other room had somehow managed crawl his way under her skin and past her iron-clad defenses, taking away her ability to simply ignore her emotions as she had earlier that day in the cafe, when her encounter with Marcus had left her shaken.

She thought back on the last few weeks and began putting all the little pieces together in her mind that she'd been trying not to think about, all of Bruce's looks and their words and the increasingly clear indications that she was entering dangerous territory. When he came back from the dead they became instant lovers, and she hadn't expected them to be anything more than that, besides maybe travel companions, which they'd become today. But there had been the odd tugs in her chest, the dreams that plagued her and brought back sickening guilt, and the sting of his eyes when they became full of something she didn't understand. Her chest still ached, and she replayed his words in her head over and over. _It was different before when I had nothing else to live for._

It had been much more comfortable before Marcus showed up, when Bruce still knew next to nothing about her life and she knew little more about his, and she thought she was simply helping him so that she could pay off a debt and make amends for her past betrayal of him, not to mention enjoy the perks of his rather extensive sexual skills. But now she could see the pattern, see where the lines had begun to blur, and it was even evident during their time in bed in the last hour. Despite the bruises that had indeed appeared on the curve between her hips and sides, he had been gentle as well, contrasting their slightly rough and very frantic usual style with something new, something that felt different and - if she were being honest - like perfection.

When she put everything together in her mind as she stared at herself in the mirror, she realized that if this went on, things could end very badly. If he broke through her remaining walls and seized control of her heart, she feared she would lose herself entirely and cease to be the person she had always been, because that person had never loved anyone except her dead mother, and she didn't know how to do anything different.

It was simple, really, she thought as she forced herself to take a deep breath. She just had to make sure they became nothing more than lovers, and if he couldn't handle that, then that part of their relationship had to end. That had always been her rule, and since she didn't want to hurt Bruce any more than she already had in the past, she had to make sure he understood this.

She squared her shoulders and grabbed a robe that hung on a hook in the bathroom, wrapping it around herself and walking back out into the room. Bruce was standing up across the room with a black landline phone to his ear, wearing only a pair of jeans and ordering room service in Italian. She took the opportunity to shed the robe and redress, and when she was done, he hung up the phone and turned to her.

And there it was again, the ache in her chest and the slight burn when their eyes met, making it hard for her to look at him.

He seemed to read her mind and spoke first. "About what I said -"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"But -"

"I'm serious," she said flatly. "It doesn't matter."

He looked at her in confusion.

"It doesn't matter because if you ever wanted more from me," she said as her heart thumped in her chest, "I couldn't give it to you. It's not who I am. And it won't change. I don't want to hurt you, so either accept that this is as far as it will ever go or move on."

For the briefest of moments, the look in Bruce's eyes made her think that she had misinterpreted everything and had just made an idiot of herself, but then Bruce stepped forward and said, "If that's the case, then why did you go buy me a carful of groceries yesterday and drive an hour to give them to me? Why did you insist I move in with you? Why did you beg me to get help for my problems last night? Why even bother opening up to me at all about your past, if we'll never be more than lovers? Why come with me to this city when you have a device that lets you start over anywhere in the world in a matter of seconds? For that matter, why did you risk your life to save mine in Gotham? I know you don't want to go after Michaels, so why are you still here with me?"

"If you don't want me here then -"

"Of course I want you here," he interrupted, closing the distance between them. She tore her eyes away from his and looked angrily across the room, crossing her arms. "I don't want you to be anywhere else but with me."

"I'm not what you want me to be," she said quietly, still avoiding his eyes. "I never will be. I'm never going to change."

"I don't want you to change," he replied. "But you once told me that you're adaptable."

"What do you want?" she spat out, finally looking up at him once more.

"I want you," he said simply.

"I'll hurt you," she shook her head.

"I can take it."

She sighed in exasperation and moved to turn away from him, but then his hands grabbed her face and his lips were on hers, urgent but soft, and her hands hung half-raised in mid air, caught in between the urges to push him away and pull him closer. The pain in her chest had turned to an electric hum, centered at her racing heart and spreading throughout her body, while his lips moved gently and painfully sweetly against hers. She knew better, but she kissed him back anyway, and her hands moved from their limbo to his bare, scarred back, and just as she was getting lost in him, he pulled away.

She didn't want to look him in the eyes, but his fingers under her chin forced her to. She amended her earlier thought. Staring at Bruce was much worse than staring at the sun, because at least the sun didn't make her heart race and tempt her with thoughts of what could be if she let down her oldest and strongest wall. "For a genius, you're being pretty stupid," she said.

He grinned. "I know what I want."

She took his hands and moved them from her waist. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you what you want."

"You can," he countered. "You're just afraid to."

"I'm doing you a favor," she said as she walked away from him.

They spent the rest of the night in mostly silence, eating the dinner he'd ordered on opposite sides of the room and keeping to themselves. She caught his eyes on her every so often and she did her best to ignore them, turning in early for the night when he disappeared into the bathroom for a late shower.

She pretended to be asleep when he came out, cracking one of her eyes open to watch him settle in on the small couch across the room. He didn't fit on the couch at all and she knew it would be hell on his back, but if she insisted that he came to bed she knew what would inevitably happen, and she meant what she said earlier about him learning to keep their relationship purely sexual or moving on. Since he clearly wasn't interested in either, she decided that she needed to be the one to end it.

She spent the night trying to sleep but failing, toying with the idea of leaving in the morning, taking the clean slate and starting over somewhere warm and sunny, perhaps the type of island she'd suggested to Bruce, but she knew she wouldn't be able to do it. The thought of leaving him was excruciating, and it only served to frighten her even more.

When it was 2 AM, she'd all but given up on the idea of sleep, and when she tossed and turned towards the side of the room where Bruce was, she made out his moonlit figure sitting up on the couch with his head in his hands. She squinted and lifted her head from her pillow, watching as he sat there almost completely still but for the digging of his fingers into his skull, and with a twist of dread she realized what she was about to witness for the first time.

She quietly slipped out of bed and padded to the couch, kneeling when she reached it and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Come to bed."

He opened his eyes but didn't move his hands. She spoke again. "Come on."

She tugged on his arm and eventually got him to his feet, taking him to the bed where she gently helped lay him down. His eyes clenched shut as soon as he was in the bed and he lay on his back, elbows in the air as his fingers dug harder into his pounding head, and she slid in beside him.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked in a whisper.

"No," he croaked. "Just... just have to wait it out."

She knew it took a lot for this man to be so visible and expressive about pain, and and she hated feeling helpless to do anything. She recalled him saying that these headaches could go on for days, days where he couldn't eat, move, or function at all, and she prayed this would be an exception, and that he would be fine in the morning, because she didn't know if she could bear to see him like that.

Somehow, however, she knew it wouldn't be a lucky exceptions. She also knew there was no way she could walk away from this man, despite the voice in her head screaming at her to do just that.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm baaaack! And two days earlier than promised lol. Wedding/vow renewal went amazing, had a blast and am happy to be back home. Thank you guys for your reviews and well wishes, you're all the best! (24 reviews for the last chapter! Daaaang lol). This chapter's a bit different, as I decided to write it in Bruce's perspective rather than Selina's. I'll go back to her perspective after this, but I felt like we needed a peek inside of his poor, aching head lol. I'm actually not that big a fan of this chapter, and if it's not up to par, I blame the fact that I wrote it off an on over the last few days and haven't hardly slept since Saturday. But I tend to over-critique myself, so let me know what you think. Oh yeah, and the plot takes off very soon *evil grin* :D Oh yeah, random but - does anyone know of someone who could make a better graphic/book cover for this story? I can't make one myself and I'm super sick of the generic one I have at the moment, but I can't find anything better. Meh. **

When Bruce opened his eyes three days later, his head was free of pain and his stomach felt almost excruciatingly empty. He felt like he'd just gotten run over by a train, and when he looked around the room as his eyes adjusted to the morning light filtering in through a window, he couldn't recognize where he was.

Slowly he sat up in the large bed that he was in, and a glance towards the floor to his left showed an empty bucket and a few washcloths upon a nightstand. He grimaced at the sight and looked around the room again, this time noticing a snoozing Selina in an armchair near the window, neck bent at an odd angle and a darkened laptop in her lap.

A few hazy memories came to the forefront of his mind, most notably one that involved a car and Selina's distant voice telling him they had to leave. The rest were all of pain and throwing up and being delirious, trying to sleep but failing until last night. As he looked around for his phone and found it on the nightstand, he remembered glasses of water being held to his lips and Selina urging him to drink, gentle touches of soft hands and soothing words when he was heaving uncontrollably into the now-clean bucket that sat on the floor.

He pressed a button on his phone and looked at the date, realizing this episode had lasted three days. It was an improvement from his last, which had lasted five, but he couldn't dredge up any excitement for this. The three days had felt like five, and when he slowly pushed the covers aside and swung his legs over the bed, he felt horribly weak and very much like a prisoner inside a body that had been pushed too far too many times.

He pushed through, however, and walked quietly to the windows to peer out and see if he could figure out where they were. He didn't recognize the city square that their penthouse suite looked out over, but as he looked around a bit more and took in the size of the room, he realized Selina definitely had spared no expense when it came to their new temporary lodgings.

A quick trip to the bathroom later, he walked back into the main room to find Selina stirring, snapping fully awake only when she shifted her legs and sent her laptop to the floor with a loud thud. Her eyes flew open and immediately went to the empty bed, and something stirred within Bruce when he saw the slight panic on Selina's face that appeared when she realized he wasn't there.

"I'm right here."

Her eyes finally found him and relief visibly flooded over her. She ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. "You're awake."

He nodded. "Headache's gone."

"You need to see a doctor," Selina said, stretching as she got to her feet. "That wasn't a headache. That was... I don't even know what to call that."

"I've been to doctors," he said, perching on the edge of the bed across from her.

"And what have they said?"

"Not a lot," he sighed. "There's no tumors or growths. Nothing visibly wrong."

"There's obviously something wrong," she muttered, shuffling off to retrieve a few pieces of toast from a breakfast she'd ordered and ignored before dozing off. When she returned she handed Bruce the toast and a bottle of water, then sank back into her chair.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that," he said, lingering nausea competing with his vast hunger as he eyed the toast in his hand.

She shook her head slightly. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

He took a bite of the toast reluctantly and forced it down. "Where are we?"

"Grosetto," Selina replied with a yawn that she suppressed with her palm.

"Why did we leave?"

"I don't want to stay any one place for long. I started feeling uneasy and that usually means its time to get moving." She eyed him as he forced himself to eat and said, "You've got to do something. You're losing weight. This is no way to live."

"I'm fine," Bruce shrugged.

She rolled her eyes. "You're anything but fine."

"I've been through worse."

She didn't appear to doubt that, but she looked like she'd already reached her limit of annoyance, and she got up from the chair and sauntered into the bathroom. Bruce eyed her computer as it sat on the floor, but he opted to take care of what he needed to use it for later, when Selina was asleep.

He finished the toast and the bottle of water with a scowl and then dropped to the floor, commencing his usual routine of recuperating from pain by refusing to take it easy and acting as if he hadn't spent the last three days in a state of semi-conscious torture.

"Is this really necessary?" Selina's voice wafted through the air as he counted his push ups. He glanced up at her but kept going, ignoring the jelly-like consistency of his legs and the weakness in his arms. In his mind, if he had to feel like crap, he may as well feel like crap for a productive reason.

Selina sat in silence for the hour that he spent going at it, her eyes turning smug when he dropped on the bed afterwards and couldn't catch his breath.

"You really think you have no limits."

He silently disagreed, staring at the ceiling as his heart pounded hard within his chest. He knew full well that he had limits, but he simply had yet to break the bad habit of ignoring them.

He sat up with some effort, and grimaced as he removed the brace from his leg and set it aside for the moment. He rubbed at his nearly worthless knee for a moment before glancing over at Selina, who was watching him studiously.

"You look tired," he said.

"That's because I am tired," she replied. "I haven't slept anymore than you have."

He thought back to the hazy memories of the care she'd given him, how she'd wiped his brow and cleaned his face, made sure he drank water and did her best to keep him as comfortable as possible, and now, as he took in the circles under her eyes and the tangles in her usually sleek hair, he could almost feel his heart swell a little bit.

He wasn't in denial the way that he knew she was. He'd known for a long time now that she was something special, the only thing that had made him feel alive for the first time in years, and with every passing day that he shared with her, it became increasingly clear that his once dead heart was showing signs of life again.

He once thought that he would never love again, and a part of him still feared that may be true. He thought he'd buried his heart with Rachel, and maybe he had. But after more than eight years of knowing nothing but pain, grief, and numbness, and resigning himself to living without love for the rest of his days, Selina was like a great gasping breath of pure oxygen after nearly drowning. Especially after his extremely disastrous and impulsive brief time with Miranda/Talia, who turned out to be a psychotic would-be mass murderer.

Selina was dangerous, brilliant, sometimes cruel and always determined to be the one in control, no matter the situation. She'd been through hell and she bore the scars of it, but she didn't let it define her either. She was more than her past, even if she pretended she wasn't sometimes in the hopes that it would keep him at arms' length, and he could see so much in her that she seemed utterly blind to.

She was just like him in so many ways, and quite opposite in others. She was fascinating and maddening, beautiful and sometimes frightening, because he didn't know if she would ever allow herself to love him the way she'd have to if they became something. For that matter, he didn't know if the same was true of himself, either.

He'd been led on and toyed with and ultimately rejected before, and he would carry that pain with him forever. Rachel would always be there in his mind and heart, a source of pain and regret and unfading grief. But maybe - just maybe, if he was lucky, he thought - he could give his past to Rachel, while giving his future to Selina.

Selina looked away from him, like she always did when he looked in her eyes as these thoughts went through his head. He knew she was scared and he was as well. The difference between them was, he stopped letting fear influence his decisions a long time ago.

He watched as she got up and found the remote to the flat screen television that was mounted on the wall, his eyes flickering to the screen when she turned it on and put on a twenty four hour news channel.

Neither of them were particularly interested in what they were watching, but since they didn't have a lot of choice but to stay holed up in the hotel, they endured the boredom until Selina spoke awhile later.

"I hope you've changed your mind about Michaels."

"I haven't thought about anything much for the last three days, so no, I haven't."

Selina was silent for a moment, staring blankly at the television, but he could tell by the set of her jaw and the way her eyes were slightly narrowed that her mind was anything but blank. He wasn't surprised when she finally looked away from the screen and got to her feet, muttering, "I think it might be best if we parted ways from here."

On the outside, Bruce made sure he appeared unfazed, but an extremely slight, barely perceptible sense of panic took hold deep in his gut at her words. "What are you talking about?"

"I can't sit here and watch you do this to yourself," she said in a quieter-than usual voice. "You act as if you aren't sick, or at least that it's no big deal that you're wasting away, and you still can't give up this crime-fighting fantasy of yours. But that's who you are, isn't it? It's who you'll always be. You're Batman. You punish your body and try to save the world one monster at a time, never stopping to think about yourself for one minute."

"If I have a way to help people -"

"Would you help _yourself_ for once in your life?" Selina interrupted fiercely. "Who can you help when you're stuck in a bed puking into a bucket for days?"

Bruce's jaw tightened a bit but he didn't flinch under Selina's glare. "I've seen a doctor. I don't know what you want -"

"See another one," she suggested icily. "And then see another one if that one can't give you answers. But I don't think I can stand to watch this."

With some effort, Bruce got to his feet, favoring his bad leg and never breaking their eye contact. "If you want to leave then leave, Selina."

He called her bluff because he ultimately knew she wouldn't go anywhere, despite his initial brief panic and her naturally flighty nature, plus the fact that she probably should leave for her own sake, all things considered. In his view, he didn't have a lot to offer her - he feared he would become little more than a burden on her the longer they travelled together, unless he could find a doctor who could figure out what was happening inside of his head. He wanted to be closer to her, but he also didn't trust himself to sleep in the same bed as her after the previous week's incident. He wasn't even sure that he could love her the way that he wanted to and the way that she deserved to be loved, but he desperately wanted the chance to try.

Finally, after a long silence, Selina spoke. "You look like hell. Go take a shower."

She then turned and scooped up her laptop before settling into the same chair she'd dozed earlier. He watched her for a moment before glancing towards the bathroom, deciding to take her advice and limping away a moment later.

He perched on the side of the rather large, oval-shaped bathtub that looked big enough to go swimming in and turned on the water to fill it up. He made the water as scaldingly hot as he could and waited, thoughts swirling through his head and joints aching under his skin as steam began to fill the air around him. When the tub was half full, he discarded his clothes and slid into the water slowly, the burn of it as painful as it was relaxing and relieving. He let the water rise some more and then turned it off, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the tub.

Bruce had a slightly odd habit of practicing holding his breath underwater on the mildly rare occasion that he took baths, and today was not an exception. When he brought his head under the water to wet his hair he kept it there for some time, his eyelids burning a bit from the heat but he didn't rise, counting the seconds inside of his head.

His ability to hold his breath for long periods of time had come in handy quite a few times before, and he was just about to reach his usual point where he would finish counting and come back up for air when suddenly two hands grabbed on to his shoulders with painful force and shoved him up and against the rim of the tub.

His instinct screamed at him to fight and resist but his eyes opened to see a wide-eyed Selina only inches from him. He gasped in a huge breath of air and squinted as the water from his hair drained into his eyes and Selina screeched, "What the hell! What happened?"

"Nothing happened," he said in between gulps of air, pushing his hair back on his head. "I was... I was practicing holding my breath."

If there had been the briefest flicker of relief in Selina's eyes, it had quickly been replaced with anger as she released her grip on his shoulders with a slight shove. She glared at him and began to storm off, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Wait."

She tried to shake him off but he had an iron grip on her. "If you don't let go I'll break your wrist."

Their eyes met and Bruce didn't let go. They stared at one another for a moment, as if daring the other to make a move, until Selina's other hand enclosed on the one of Bruce's that was clamped on her wrist. She didn't intend to actually break anything, only cause enough pain to force him off, but he was quicker than her and grabbed her hand with his free one and within a half-second, she was off of her feet and in the bathtub.

Her clothes were soaked and Selina looked furious as she regained her bearings after the splash, and Bruce tried to hide his amusement at what he'd done as she shot imaginary knives at him through her eyes. But before she could yell at him as he could tell she was about to in about one second, he asked, "Why were you in here?"

She seemed to swallow her coming shouts and pushed her hair out of her face. "Why did you almost drown yourself trying to hold your breath? Is that really a skill you still need?"

"I didn't almost drown myself," he said, willing himself to keep his eyes level with hers rather than let them admire the way her wet clothes were clinging to her body. "And that skill saved my life a few months ago."

Selina's eyes narrowed, but she didn't ask him to elaborate. He hadn't yet told her how exactly he had survived the nuclear blast, other than the fact that autopilot had been used, and that story could wait for another day.

Selina shifted her body and he knew she was about to try to leave the tub, so he waited for the right moment, just when she was getting back to her feet, and then he grabbed her once more, this time holding her tight against his chest.

They were nose to nose when Selina said, "Let me go."

"No."

"The only reason I haven't knocked you flat on your ass yet is because I don't want to hurt you, but I think I'm having a change of heart there."

Bruce was unfazed. She was bluffing a lot today. "Just tell me why you came in here."

"I don't really feel like telling you, so I don't think I will."

"I don't feel like letting you go," he retorted, "so I don't think I will. I like the way you feel right now."

"I can tell," she said with a slight curve of her lips. "Too bad you're on your own for that."

"We'll see about that."

Then he kissed her, and it took her a moment before she managed to push him away. "I meant what I said the other day," she said in a low voice, looking up into his eyes as her hands still clutched at his shoulders.

"So did I," he replied.

"Then you see the little dilemma we find ourselves in."

He ran a finger along her cheek and down to her neck, along which his mother's pearls still lay - she didn't appear to ever take them off anymore - and as he lightly touched them, he brought his eyes back up and said, "There wouldn't be a dilemma if you didn't insist on fighting me so hard."

"Then stop giving me reasons to fight you."

Bruce looked at her for a moment before bringing his lips to her neck, murmuring in between kisses, "I will when you stop lying to yourself."

She grabbed his hair and pulled him away, eyes narrowed. "Do I want to know what you mean by that?"

"You already know," he said.

"Do I?"

He didn't answer, bringing his hand to her face again and pressing his lips to hers in a shockingly gentle, soft kiss that he poured all of himself into, all of the conflicting apprehension and desire, the feelings that were growing inside of his heart that were terrifying and exhilarating at the same time, all of the things he was still too guarded and wary to say out loud. He didn't see her open her eyes mid-kiss and look at him in what could have been fear, bewilderment or amazement, or perhaps all three at once, but he did feel her reluctance to kiss him back.

He pulled away and their noses grazed as Selina kept her eyes down, anything to keep from looking into his. Bruce's hands found the hem of her plastered-on top and started slowly lifting it, while his eyes burned into her still-averted ones.

"Look at me," he said gently, fingers soft against the damp skin on her sides. When she wouldn't comply, his raised her chin with his finger and forced the issue.

All it took was one look into his eyes, and she melted into him with a kiss that answered his last with everything she couldn't say as well, though her kiss was decidedly less sweet than his had been. It was hard and unforgiving, and her breath came in uneven, almost nervous-sounding bursts.

She was scared, and it was obvious. He really didn't know what her capitulation meant, and he suspected she didn't either, but she wasn't pushing him away, and he needed her then more than he possibly ever had before. She let him break their kiss to pull her shirt over her head, and then she wrapped her arms around him and gave into him, if only for the time being and against her better judgement.

He considered this a victory, however small and insignificant it may turn out to be in the long run, but even if he had to break through her walls brick by brick with his bare hands and in turn take down his own, right now, he couldn't think of anything that he would rather spend his life doing.

He made quick work of her remaining clothes and then they were skin to skin and quickly overheating in the still-scorching water, kissing like they might never get to again and touching like they were committing each inch of skin to their memories. She was in his lap with her legs around him and his lips were everywhere on her, her lips, neck, collarbone, shoulders, breasts and their sensitive pink peaks, and when he seemed to be least expecting it, she turned in his lap and pressed her back against his chest as she suddenly came down on him and took his entire length inside of her in one smooth glide.

A hiss and muffled curse fell out of his mouth and he gripped her hips almost painfully tight as she held still, keeping him waiting and dying to move for a moment.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he rasped into her ear.

The corners of her lips quirked a little as she finally brought herself back up, allowing him to move against her and breathe again. "At least you'll die happy."

His laugh was breathless against her ear before her head turned and her lips caught his, and in another moment, one of his arms was wrapped around her chest while the other snaked around her waist and delivered skilled fingers to the core of her burning arousal between her legs.

Water was splashing about them and spilling over the tub to the floor in uneven waves as they picked up the pace, increasingly frantic and wild but never breaking their rhythm, and though Bruce had barely eaten and had been sick for three days prior to today, he felt blessedly young and unaffected by any of it. He almost lost it when Selina tightened around him and arched against him, biting her lip to keep from crying out, but he controlled himself and decided to do his best to make her use her voice.

Instead of stopping the work of his fingers when she climaxed, he kept up the speed and shifted a little bit inside of her, hitting her directly where it felt best and using the hand that was cupping a breast to assault her pleasure zone there as well, and it wasn't but a few seconds before she came again, harder than before and anything but silently.

Her voice in his ears snipped away his last thread of self control and he buried himself within her, biting her shoulder as he had once before, and a moment later, his head was leaned against the back of the tub as she was slumped against his chest.

The bathroom was nearly flooded and more than half of the water in the tub was long gone, but neither noticed, nor said a word.

A few moments passed before he felt tension reenter Selina's body and she began moving away from him, and as he sat up straight once more, a dull ache in his back reminded him that his feeling of being young and unaffected was as fleeting as ever.

Selina's eyes were unreadable as she tossed a towel in his direction, and after he caught it, she wrapped one around herself and walked out of the bathroom without a word.

He wondered if they'd taken a step forward or two steps back, or if he'd just sent her even further into the fearful panic mode that he knew she'd been stuck in ever since he'd let just a little too much slip a few days ago.

He wondered how many days, weeks, months, or even years would pass before their walls were finally no longer standing.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you everyone for your awesome reviews! Ahhhh this chapter's a good one, probably my favorite so far. I've strung the plot together pretty well in my head but there's a lot of wiggle room, so any ideas/requests/ or characters you want to see are all stuff I want to hear. (One reviewer mentioned Dr. Leslie Thompkins - thanks! She's going to fit in perfectly.). Anyway, let me know what you think! :D**

Selina knew that something was going to happen very soon. Over the next few days, Bruce began spending a great deal of his time sitting near the window, staring out in what seemed like great concentration, and whenever she suggested packing up and moving on to another city, he resisted. He would give different excuses or ignore her altogether, but she wasn't stupid - she knew he was simply hoping that Marcus Michaels would find them so that he could slip him the USB device that he'd been working on every night when she pretended to be asleep**. **

She knew that arguing was futile, so she avoided the topic of Michaels like the plague. She couldn't control Bruce any more than he could control her, and she was still somewhat sure that life with him would always be like this.

Bruce had also decided to begin the process of growing out his hair and letting his facial hair grow in as well, though Selina doubted this would serve it's purpose of concealing his identity from those who would potentially recognize him as Michaels had. It couldn't hurt, however, she supposed, and she thought the look would suit him quite well. However, the fact that she was giving his hair so much thought in general was a testament to how utterly bored she was.

Neither of them had experienced any fresh air in days, and being cooped up with nobody but each other was getting more annoying to Selina every day. Their conversations were well-rehearsed dances that hopped around the topics that were dying to be discussed but never were, and the physical tension was possibly even worse.

Something had changed since their last intimate encounter, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was exactly. What she did know was that just the slightest touch made her skin burn, including the occasional brush of hands or other accidental things, and they both acted strangely about it when it happened. For two people who knew one another's body quite well by now, the distance they were keeping from each other was odd but somehow thrilling. She saw the way he looked at her when she undressed for bed at night in front of him, and the way his eyes darkened when they ran along the curves of her hips when she slinked about the room wearing next to nothing, but he didn't make a move. She wondered what it would take to break down this new resolve of his, and it became a question almost as intriguing as the one of why exactly it existed in the first place.

Maybe he wanted her to come to him first, or maybe he didn't quite know how to proceed after the incident in the bathtub. It had certainly been the most emotionally messy romp they'd had to date, and she cringed when she thought back on how she'd given in to him despite her better judgment. But as much as she still very much clung to her private, mental insistences that they would never be anything more than lovers, even she could no longer deny the air of inevitability that was starting to take hold.

It was the way he looked at her when she pretended not to notice, and how she knew he sometimes watched her when she pretended to be asleep. It was the way it hurt to keep her distance and not touch him, and the way her insides squirmed when their eyes did eventually meet throughout the day. It was the memory of that kiss, that horribly sweet, terrified, volume-speaking kiss of his that had broken her resolve to resist him and made her realize just how screwed she really was.

But that didn't mean she wasn't done putting up a fight, although at the moment, she was enjoying their current game more than the constant underlying conflict.

Today marked five long, uneventful, boring but tense days since Bruce had awoken from his headache, and this one went by even quieter than the last. If he wasn't staring out the window then he was texting John Blake, or doing his best to turn their suite into his personal gym, or brooding as he stared at the television with unfocused eyes.

Whatever he was planning, it was happening soon. And his silence was evidence that he did not want her to play any part in it.

She'd tried to snoop around on his phone, but he had beefed it up with so many security measures that even she wasn't sure how to break through it. It got to the point where she tried to look over his shoulder a few times as he composed texts, but that never got her anywhere either.

By sunset, Bruce was at the window again, and this time Selina decided to join him and see for herself what was so fascinating.

She stood so that only about an inch separated them, and the proximity raised her heart rate by a few beats. "Care to tell me what you've been staring at the last five days? Or are you still going to keep me in the dark?"

"You should pack your things," Bruce said, staring forward. "I want us to leave tomorrow morning."

"Leave for where?"

"I'll let you choose," Bruce said.

"I've wanted to leave for days now," she said, "but you've been ignoring me. I'm going to assume this means you know he's found us and you want to give him that device you've been working on before morning."

A slightly amused grin appeared on Bruce's lips. "You know I can tell when you're sleeping and when you're just pretending to be."

"I wouldn't have to pretend if you'd shed a little light on what you're doing every once in awhile," Selina said. "Let me help you when you go to him."

Bruce shook his head. "He has to think I took the clean slate from you against your will, and that I'm giving it to him to try to protect you."

"You know, he doesn't have the best track record of leaving people he makes 'deals' with alive," Selina said. "And I know you won't take a gun to protect yourself. You need my help."

"There's no reason to put you in danger," Bruce replied.

Selina's eyes narrowed at this. "You've got to be kidding me. I think I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, or do I need to reintroduce myself to you?"

"I know you are," Bruce said. "But I don't want to take any unnecessary risks."

"This is all one big unnecessary risk," Selina countered. "All of it. You're the one choosing to take it."

Bruce shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away from the window. "I'm not going to debate this with you again."

Selina rolled her eyes and continued to look out the window for a moment as silence descended upon them once more. The silence stretched into most of the night and Bruce seemed determined to speak as little as possible, eyes glancing to the clock on the wall often, though curiously, he seemed to be in a state of complete calm.

She thought this was because this was, after all, his element. She wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't utterly giddy and jumping with excitement inside.

Selina had no intention of sleeping tonight, but when the hour she normally prepared for bed rolled around, she went through her usual routine and then fished through her suitcase in search of something to change into, but she only found clothes that were in desperate need of laundering by now. But then her eye fell upon a white button down shirt that hung on the door of the bathroom she was in, and with the inklings of an idea forming in her mind, she took Bruce's shirt and shrugged into it, fastening only the middlemost button and sauntering back out into the main room.

Bruce was perched on the side of the bed, head bowed as he stared at his phone, but a glimpse of her bare legs sliding out from under the minimal coverage of his shirt did the job of catching his eye.

She ran a comb through her hair as his eyes ran over her, the raising of her arms providing a quick glimpse of black panties, the only thing she wore under his shirt, and when he set his phone aside on the nightstand, she did the same thing with the comb.

"So," Selina said as she lowered herself to Bruce's lap, straddling him, "what's this fake clean slate going to do when he plugs it in?"

Her hands were on his shoulders and his were on her hips as he replied, "It'll act exactly as he expects it to. After he uses it and he searches for his name, nothing will come up for a period of time long enough for him to think its genuine."

"And let me guess," Selina said, "you've had Blake arrange for the FBI to be here and waiting for some sort of signal from the device to move in and arrest him."

"They already have a perimeter set up," Bruce said. "He won't get away. Even if he destroys the device as soon as he uses it."

"And does the FBI know who's making this lovely little bust possible?" she asked, pushing a stray strand of his hair back on his head.

"Just a concerned citizen," Bruce replied, hands slipping under her shirt and sliding along her skin.

"Right," she said. "You must know that this is all entirely too simple. He's paranoid. He'll know something's up."

"Maybe, maybe not. Remember, I'm supposed to be dead. Most men who fake their deaths don't turn around and contact the authorities to turn in a criminal, blowing their cover."

"I highly doubt he'll take that for granted," Selina said. "But say he tries to kill you the second you hand over the device. What's your plan?"

"Not letting him kill me," Bruce smirked.

"You aren't invincible," Selina said seriously. "You need to let me help."

"Careful, Selina," he said, "I'm not supposed to know that you care about me."

"I've never said I don't care," Selina retorted. "I'd say that much has been obvious for a long time now."

"Then you can understand why I want you to stay here," Bruce said, eyes flickering to her lips when she absently licked them.

"That's not going to happen, Bruce."

They were silent for a brief moment, and then Bruce's eyes fell from hers down to the rest of her as he said, "This might be my second favorite look that I've seen on you."

"Oh?" she said. "And what would the first be?"

"Well, I would say _nothing_ if I could," he grinned slightly, "but... I've never seen anything quite like you in skin-tight leather on top of the BatPod."

Selina chuckled. "Gave you something to fantasize about, did I?"

"You have no idea," he murmured before capturing her lips with his.

Fire exploded within her at his touch, and it almost took her breath away. She'd always felt something like this when they kissed and touched, but it was growing now, and the distance between them for the last five days seemed to have taken the flame and turn it into some sort of inferno. This was unprecedented, and a little terrifying, but she wouldn't have dreamed of fighting it.

His tongue was sliding into her mouth as his fingers undid the sole fastened button on her shirt, and when he pushed aside the fabric and found nothing but bare skin underneath, he groaned and quickly moved her flat on her back on the bed.

"How long do we have?" Selina asked breathlessly between his bruising kisses.

He briefly turned his head towards the clock and rasped, "Long enough."

His answer suited her just fine. Better that they go to meet Michaels relaxed and as tension-free as possible, anyway.

Five days of abstinence hadn't been kind to them, and within seconds all clothing was on the floor and forgotten, and their usual struggle for dominance commenced in a blur of hands and lips and teeth and limbs.

Eventually, however, Selina managed to push Bruce down and keep him there for a minute. "You know I'm coming with you tonight."

"That could mean several things," Bruce said, pulling her down and latching on to her neck.

"You know what I mean," she breathed, grabbing his hair and forcing his head down against the bed. Her lips found his neck and she took her time kissing down to his chest.

"I wish you would listen to me every once in awhile," Bruce said, his fingers tangling in her hair.

"And I wish you'd shut up every once in awhile," she replied, glancing up and giving him a devilish look before dipping down and, without any warning, suddenly taking his entire stiff length into her mouth in one smooth glide of her lips.

He cursed and she laughed, and the vibration of her voice made him curse more. Then she withdrew her lips and began a maddening routine of teasing licking and sucking that left him using words she'd never heard him say before, and when he was seconds away from release, he pried her away by her hair and rasped, "Stop, stop."

She let him move her back up his body and said as he flipped her on her back, "Too much for you?"

"No, too soon," he replied before kissing her lips.

Then he was working his way down, stopping for a moment to bring her to the peak of arousal with attention that he lavished on her breasts, alternating between them with his fingers and tongue while his hands held hers still at her side. She struggled against him and could have cried in relief when he finally continued his journey down his body, and she did when he slung her leg over his shoulder and bent the other one at the knee before kissing her where she wanted it most.

She bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood with the first stroke of his tongue, and with the second she pulled his hair so hard she felt some of the dark strands break off in her hand. With the third stroke, she dug her nails into his scalp and her toes started curling, and after nearly losing it with the fourth, she came apart during the fifth and shuddered almost violently as he tried in vain to hold her still.

As she panted and tried to recover, he held her leg securely over his shoulder and moved back up her body, pleased and unsurprised that she was more than limber enough to accommodate him. Her knee was almost touching her chest when he bent down and kissed her, and she replied with, "That was a new record, by the way."

He grinned and eased into her gently. He started out slower than he ever had before, and this didn't escape Selina's notice, though she couldn't deny that the change of their usual pace felt amazing. He took his time moving in an out of her, kissing her lips and the curve between her jaw and her neck, holding on to her leg with a grip like a vice, breathing hotly against her skin through his open mouth, and it wasn't long before she was seeing stars again.

He was moving faster now but only a little, and the the tension and pleasure was building again within her but languidly this time, and somehow she didn't have the urge to grab him and make him go faster and harder like she normally would have.

It was when they were both close that he raised his head a few inches and she opened her eyes to find him looking into them intently, bearing that same terribly soft, almost painful look that he sometimes did when he looked at her, and a few things happened at that moment.

Firstly, she realized that for the first time in her life, she was being made love to. Secondly, a searing pain tore through her chest and she felt like her heart had burst open. It was similar to the dull pains he'd caused in her before, but now it was so much worse she could have almost believed she needed to see a doctor. And lastly, his thrusts finally achieved their goal within her and her second orgasm gripped her as he continued to stare at her with excruciatingly soft eyes.

Only seconds later he found his release as well, and she held his head close when he buried it in her neck as he shuddered against her. Through her haze, she felt familiar panic trying to grip her mind, but the pain in her chest seemed to be keeping that response at bay. It was strange - her heart felt like it was split open and yet overly full at the same time, like it was about to explode several more times as it thudded inside of her chest.

And it was all because of that damn look.

They lay tangled together for a few moments until Bruce glanced towards the clock and groaned unwillingly, "I need to go."

They unwound their limbs from one another and Selina was quick to follow him off the bed, pushing the last few moment's events from her head and switching to business mode as she got dressed alongside him. He looked at her as she strapped two guns to herself and said, "I really don't want you to come, Selina."

"Too bad," she replied. "You know I'll never be content to sit on the sidelines. Even when you're doing something I think is stupid. Or maybe especially."

Bruce looked exasperated for a moment before he said, "All right, but can you leave the building a different way and make sure you stay unseen?"

"What did you think I was going to do?" she asked somewhat indignantly.

"I'm just making sure," he said. "I don't want you seen by anyone."

"I won't be," she replied.

When they had both prepared themselves, Bruce told her where he was going and kissed her goodbye, then headed out the door for the first time since he'd arrived. Selina watched and then waited five minutes before leaving the room herself, crossing to the other side of the hotel and slipping out through a window. She scaled down the building and disappeared into the night, armed and hoping disaster was not looming.

* * *

When she found Bruce in the alleyway he'd directed her to, he was still alone. She was hidden in the shadows on a third-story ledge that allowed her the best vantage point possible while still keeping her concealed, and when a rather stringy and unimpressive thug tried to sneak up on Bruce from behind, she enjoyed the loud cracking sounds that came from his body as Bruce slammed him to the ground.

"There's no need for that," Bruce said loudly into the darkness. "I know you're here and I have what you want."

"Indeed you do," came a greasy voice that made Selina's skin crawl. A few footsteps later Marcus Michaels appeared at the entrance of the alleyway, flanked by a few much beefier men than the first. "Bruce Wayne. I never expected to see you here, and certainly not with Selina."

"You don't know who I am," Bruce replied, "and it doesn't matter."

"Oh, but I do, and it does," Marcus smiled, taking a few more steps towards Bruce. "All of us Gotham natives would know your face anywhere. And here I thought you died in the riots."

"And I thought you were in Blackgate," Bruce retorted. "Can we make this quick?"

"Oh yes," Marcus said, "but first - where is dear Selina?"

"Asleep," Bruce said. "She doesn't know I'm here."

"That I doubt," Marcus said. "Nothing gets past that girl. I taught her well."

Selina's gut clenched.

"Do you have the clean slate?"

Bruce nodded. "I do."

Marcus smiled. "Unless you're lying, Selina's going to be extremely angry with you."

Bruce shrugged and produced a USB device from his pocket. "I'm not lying."

Marcus motioned to one of his men to take the device, and as the man did, Marcus said, "The two of you make an odd pair. She doesn't normally go for the pretty-boy playboy type, unless she's trying to bankrupt one," he chuckled throatily.

The man who took the device immediately plugged it into a laptop that another man had produced, and as he went to work on it, Marcus continued. "You know, something interesting happened the day after I saw you and Selina together at that art gallery she was working at. I have a friend - well, more of a very recent associate - in Gotham, and he didn't seem surprised at all that you were here, alive and well."

Selina narrowed her eyes and strained her ears.

"In fact, not only was he not surprised, but he became very interested in what I planned to do with you when I found you. I told him yesterday that I'd found you and would be closing in soon, and he made two requests of me."

Selina's gun was out and her target was fixed squarely on Marcus' head.

"First, he made me promise not to kill you," Marcus said, "and second, he overnighted this package to me and asked me to make sure it reached you."

Marcus produced a long, flat envelope from the inside of his coat and handing it over to Bruce, who eyed it warily. "I wouldn't be too scared. For whatever reason, it was important to him that you walk away alive."

Reluctantly, Bruce took the envelope at the same moment Marcus' goon on the computer announced, "It's the real thing, boss."

"Excellent!" Marcus beamed. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wayne. Do give dear Selina my love, and tell her I'll be in touch."

"Stay away from her," Bruce nearly snarled. "Stay away from us."

Marcus' smile grew even larger. "'Us'? You know Selina even less than I thought," he laughed. "But you will find out sooner or later. Selina only thinks in terms of herself. She can not love. She has seen to much, lost too much, and been hurt too much, to love. One day you will wake up and she will be gone. Hopefully for you, however, she leaves your house and belongings intact, unlike mine. But that's what makes her such a dangerous creature - she can burn you and leave you for dead, and yet you'll still love her desperately." He chuckled. "Little bitch."

When his men had repacked the computer, he gave Bruce a final look and said, "Good luck - you'll need it," then disappeared out of the alley.

Within moments Selina was on the ground next to Bruce, and they were racing back to the hotel using different roundabout, shadowed routes, keeping out of sight just in case, and not saying one word to each other until they were back at their hotel room door.

"I think I know who this is from," Bruce said as Selina closed the door behind them. He stared at the envelope in his hands and didn't seem to have much motivation to open it.

"I wouldn't open it," Selina said.

"I don't think it's dangerous," Bruce said, "but that's not the point."

Selina furrowed her brows and stepped closer to him. Slowly, he flipped the envelope over and slid his finger along the seal and opened it, reluctantly pulling the envelope at its open end and peering inside of it.

All there was was a small, clear DVD case containing an unmarked disc. He pulled the case out and Selina immediately went to retrieve her computer.

She placed the laptop on a table and Bruce hurried over with the DVD, but when he opened the case and popped the disc out, he froze. Selina looked back at him and followed his gaze to the now-empty case, upon which lay a solitary joker card that had been hidden underneath the disc.

Bruce looked up at Selina and then tossed the case and the card to the floor, leaning forward and harshly shoving in the disc. Selina stood back as he pressed a button and the video began playing.

What she saw was a darkened, mostly bare room, at the center of which was a white-haired man, bound to a small wooden chair and gagged. She instantly recognized him as Alfred Pennyworth, and he didn't look frightened at all. He looked pissed.

"Well, well, well - what do we have here? Oh, that's right - a kindly old butler named Alfred," came a voice that everyone who hailed from Gotham knew horribly well. The camera shook and drew closer to Alfred as the voice continued. "Now, some people don't understand why I went through so much trouble to kidnap this old grandpa, but that's because I have a secret - Bruce Wayne's secret."

Then the camera swiveled and landed on a face covered in garish clown-like makeup, surrounded by muddy-shaded green hair and appearing more insane than ever. "You see, I was here in Gotham all along after I broke out of Arkham. I never left. Now, you can imagine my surprise when there I was, lurking in the shadows after Batman so heroically saved us all from that terrible bomb - bless his heart - and then I see a half-dead looking guy stumble down the alley I was sitting in, soaking wet, dressed in everything of Batman's except for the mask! So I follow him for awhile to get a better look, and he's so out of it that he doesn't even notice. Finally a street lamp gives me some decent light to see his face, and lo and behold - Bruce Wayne!"

"Now at this point, I couldn't be happier - not only is Batman alive (and let's face it, what good is it not being locked up in the looney bin anymore if there's no Batman to play with?), but not only that - I know his secret now! I'll admit, your identity surprised me at first, but the more I thought about it, I don't know how I never connected the dots before. Very clever, the whole irresponsible drunken playboy ruse - really, my hat's off to you," the Joker doffed an imaginary hat. "And you weren't easy to find, either, but as you can see, I've managed, like I always do. You see, a guy like me can do simple math and use it to come to the right conclusions, even if they make no sense to anybody else. I mean - Selina Kyle? What sense does that make? Gotham's Dark Knight running away with someone almost as cold as I am, who left him him to die in a sewer? Are you sure that nuclear bomb didn't do some damage to that head of yours?" He paused briefly to laugh erratically for a few seconds, then continued. "But anyway - I thought about it some more, and I realized no, this makes perfect sense. What else does Batman do for the rest of his life but try to reform the non-reformable, though on a much smaller scale than before, of course. But I have a proposition for you to consider. You see, life just isn't the same without you, Batsy. I'm incomplete without you - I mean sure, I find ways to keep myself busy, but it's just not the same. So here's the deal - you come back to Gotham, and we do what we're destined to do. If you don't come back, people will start dying. Starting with dear Alan - Albert - oh, so sorry, Alfred - here. I'll give you a week to get here - I know how international travel can be a bitch, especially without private aircrafts at your disposal - but if Bruce Wayne is not back in Gotham by then, dear little Butler will be in the ground next to your poor parents. And whatever's buried in your plot. Oh, and I'll tell the world who you really are, and make sure they all know you aren't really dead. So one way or another, you'll end up back here. I'm fine with either way."

Then the camera turned back to Alfred and the Joker began laughing under his breath. "Don't worry, Al - I'm sure he'll come and save the day. And if he doesn't, we'll have a lot of fun. Well - _I'll_ have a lot of fun." Then he dissolved into hysterical laughter, and with another great shake of the camera, the video was over.

And that was when Selina knew that Gotham had found it's way back into hers and Bruce's future.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thanks as always for your wonderful reviews, feedback and suggestions. Bit shorter chapter here today but not too bad. So far I've managed to rein in my usual tendency to pepper the beginning of chapters with song lyrics that helped inspire the story, because I don't want to annoy anyone, but I couldn't help it this time. Lyrics are from "Here We Are" by Breaking Benjamin - go listen to it, it's a great song. Oh yeah, and I kind of skip back and forth between perspectives here. I may do that more as time goes on. Let me know what you think :)**

_So here we are, fighting and trying to hide the scars._

_I'll be home tonight_

_ take a breath and softly say goodbye._

_The lonely road, the one that I should try to walk alone._

_I'll be home tonight_

_ take a breath and softly say goodbye._

The rage in Bruce's eyes was as clear as day but his movements were smooth and precise as he tore around the room, phone to his ear as he gathered his things and left Selina to watch helplessly.

"John!" he growled when the detective finally answered his phone on the third try. "When was the last time you saw Alfred?"

Selina glanced at her laptop a few feet away, a dull dread overtaking her as Bruce spoke again. "The Joker has him. He must have taken him as soon as he landed back in Gotham." A brief pause, and then, "No. A video was sent to me. He knows who I am, and he'll kill Alfred if I don't come back."

Selina suddenly felt stupid. They were only kidding themselves to ever think Bruce could escape Gotham and live some kind of idyllic, romantic life in Europe. Something would always bring him back. _Someone_ would always bring him back.

And now she watched as Bruce paced the room, slipping seamlessly back into his old life, wondering how in the world he could survive the fight ahead. He was in no condition to put the mask on again and fight the Joker, physically or mentally. One good blow to the head and Selina feared his brain would be done for, and it didn't seem a far fetched idea when she thought back on the three days she'd spent tending to him.

He wasn't Superman. He shouldn't even be alive today.

"No, John. That won't work. I don't have a choice. No - I'm not going to argue with you." He paused. "Did they get Michaels?"

Another pause, and then Bruce muttered, "Good."

Bruce then hung up and immediately dialed another number. Selina walked to her laptop and closed it, listening to him speak to what she assumed was an airline as she quietly began packing her things.

A new alias would be in order. She didn't have to worry about any outstanding warrants for her arrest in Gotham - thanks to the clean slate, nobody would ever be able to prove that she was Selina Kyle - but she still thought she would feel more comfortable looking different and going by a much different name.

Kitty Carter was fine for Italy, but she'd grown tired of the cheeky name. She mulled over different names in her head until she heard Bruce securing only one ticket for departure from Italy at 5 AM.

"Excuse me?"

Bruce paused and muttered something else in Italian before he dropped his phone from his ear and turned towards her. "Selina -"

"I'm not having this conversation for the second time tonight," Selina said fiercely.

"_Please_," he said in a tone so small and pleading it took her aback. "Please don't go back to Gotham with me. I can't - just please don't. Go somewhere safe and wait for me."

"No," Selina said simply. "Buy a second damn ticket. If you don't, you know I'll find a way on that plane anyway."

"I know you don't want to go back there, Selina. You don't need to feel obligated or -"

"Oh my God," Selina said in exasperation. "Now you're just embarrassing yourself. I'm coming whether you like it or not. Deal with it."

Then she swept past him into the bathroom, and he stared after her for a moment before bringing the phone back to his ear.

Selina rummaged around the drawers beneath the sink and then in her bag that she kept in the huge bathroom, finally finding the pair of scissors she was in pursuit of.

She looked into the mirror and ran a hand through the dark hair that now fell to the middle of her back, and for a moment she thought about keeping it. She liked the way she looked with the long locks, but then she remembered how far a simple cut and change of color could go when it came to hiding one's identity from fools. And Gotham had a lot of fools, many of whom she didn't want anywhere near her this time around.

At the very least, it would be easier flitting across rooftops without wayward strands of hair flying in her face.

With a satisfying snip, snip, snip, small curtains of hair fell to the floor around her feet. She kept cutting until her hair was no longer than Bruce's, though she left a few face-framing pieces in the front. She planned to color it when she got the chance - she also absently wondered whether Bruce would fancy blonde or jet black - but it was hard to dwell too much on her exterior when the life she didn't even know she'd been hoping for had just been ripped to shreds before her eyes.

She did _not_ want to go back to Gotham, not one bit, and yet, like when they fled Florence a few weeks ago, she hadn't thought twice about accompanying Bruce. Not even when he'd made the laughable suggestion of her staying behind somewhere while he went off and saved his butler from an insane clown.

The irony of it was, she wasn't the cripple with an unknown brain issue that caused her to be incapacitated for days at a time. She wasn't the one at risk of not being able to take care of themselves during a crisis. She was the one who should be insisting he sit this one out while she and Blake took care of this, but she knew that would never happen.

This was who he was. And for some reason, she was returning to a city she despised and never wanted to step foot in again to stay with him.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Bruce looked up from his phone and did a double take.

"Like it?" she asked in a tone that suggested she really couldn't care less what his answer was. Thing was, she did care. Just a little.

"We need to leave now to make it to the airport on time," Bruce said, watching her as she moved about the room.

"That's fine," she said, picking up a few things around the room and depositing them into a slim pocket in her pants. "I'm ready."

She looked at him across the room, and for a moment, time stood still as their eyes locked.

* * *

Bruce knew there was no leaving her here. He'd already identified his only options and decided against all of them. Anything he could do, like gently render Selina unconscious and dash off to the airport, or perhaps direct her to the wrong flight to some extremely remote location, would only piss her off and delay her by a few days. There was literally nothing he could do to force her to leave him.

He liked the new hair. It placed even more emphasis on her statuesque neck, one of his favorite parts of her, and she looked somehow more dangerous like this. If he wasn't so busy imagining tearing the Joker limb from limb he might have delayed their departure for a bit, but as it was, the sight of Alfred bound and gagged was the only thing he could think about. Besides, of course, the Joker's dismemberment.

Of course this was going to happen. He knew it somewhere deep down from the moment he found out the Joker had never been recaptured. As long as the clown was free, Bruce wouldn't be. Selina had been right that day in Florence, when she stated that she knew the Joker's disappearance was eating him alive.

How could it not? After everything that happened nine years ago, how could it _not_ eat him alive?

Without the Joker, Rachel would be alive. So would Harvey Dent. He wouldn't have been disfigured and driven mad with grief. The two of them would probably be married with a kid or two by now, but really, who could know. Bruce wouldn't have spent the last eight years as a crippled, grieving recluse. The giant gaping hole that Rachel's death had carved into his heart wouldn't be there.

Last year would have been the same, undoubtedly. But so much more would be different. _So_ much.

The Joker had already taken enough from him. And now he was on the verge of taking yet more, this time the man who had cared for, mentored, and loved Bruce like a son since birth.

Just the thought was another knife to Bruce's heart. And as he stared into Selina's eyes from across the room, he could hardly bear the thought of seeing her in danger as well.

The Joker would, undoubtedly, set his sights on Selina immediately. Her death would be one of his crowning jewels, another person snatched away from Bruce forever and thrown into the fire as he cackled and rocked happily on his heels.

At that moment, for the first time, Bruce regretted following Selina to Italy. He regretted watching her for those weeks he spent observing her, slowly falling in love without even realizing it. He regretted slipping inside of her apartment that night he finally showed himself to her. He regretted every touch, every kiss, every look that they shared, because each one made him fall harder for her. He regretted ever fighting so hard to break through her defenses and making what progress he had, and he regretted making love to her earlier tonight. He knew it had changed things. She'd allowed it. She'd looked at him in a way he'd never seen her look at him before.

He could see it clearly now. He was in love. Selina wasn't far behind him, either, he could tell that much. And that put a bullseye the size of Gotham itself on her forehead. And it was his fault. If she was killed, it would be his fault.

But she wasn't Rachel. This was the woman who had been raised by the streets and had spent her life ripping off both criminals and the rich and lived to tell about it. She'd been the downfall of her mentor, and she'd even been part of the downfall of Batman. Then she'd been the one who ended up pulling the trigger on Bane and saving Bruce's life.

This was the only thing he could take comfort in. When it was all said and done, she would probably always be the one to save him. Maybe she was exactly what he needed to defeat the Joker once and for all - someone a bit less moral, someone a bit more self-centered, unapologetic and manipulative, willing to squeeze a trigger every now and then.

However, at this moment, knowing what Alfred was going through, Bruce wasn't entirely sure he would be able to resist squeezing the trigger himself.

Selina broke their eye contact first. She always did. But he didn't take his eyes off of her, and when she swept past him with a suitcase handle in one hand and her computer bag in the other, his hands reached out and gently took her face, bringing it to his for a soft kiss.

She responded, but he could feel... _something_ holding her back. Just a little bit. Her kisses were like that sometimes.

"I like the hair," he said when they broke away from one another. He ran a finger along one of the longer pieces in the front, then moved his fingers down to her neck and on until they reached the nape of it, where he gently touched the short hair there.

"Let's go," Selina said softly. "It's a long way to the airport in Florence."

One hundred sixteen kilometers, to be exact. Seventy-two miles. Then he would be on his way home.

"By the way," Selina said, "on the way to the airport, I'll make some calls and arrange for the BatPod to be shipped back to Gotham."

"Just don't use drug lords this time," Bruce said as she opened the door.

"What you don't know won't hurt you," she smiled.

* * *

Bruce's driving got them to Florence in record time, though they spent most of that time in silence. Selina did indeed make a few calls on the way, speaking in French to somebody Bruce didn't want to know anything about, and after she hung up she announced that the BatPod would be back in Gotham within the week.

They were only a few minutes from the airport when Selina spoke. "You're not even going to think twice about putting the suit on again, are you?"

"I'm taking this one step at a time," Bruce replied. "I'll do whatever I have to to save Alfred."

She stared out at the road as it stretched in front of them. "I know you will. But... your head, Bruce, -"

"I know," he said through gritted teeth.

Selina took a moment before making what she considered a significant admittance on her part. "I'm worried."

"We both should be," Bruce answered honestly.

"Sorry, but I think I have a lot more reason to be worried over you than you do for me."

Bruce pulled into a five-minute parking spot outside of their airline's entrance and the car hummed to a stop. Bruce didn't let go of the steering wheel, however, and his eyes were fixed ahead as he spoke. "The friend that I told you about before. The one I grew up with," he glanced at Selina. "I can't say she was ever truly more than a friend, but I wanted her to be. She knew about Batman early on, and she told me she would wait for me to be done with it. That she'd be there when Gotham didn't need me anymore."

Bruce stared into the center of the steering wheel as he went on. "The day came where I thought I was done with Batman. She was with somebody else by then, but when I asked her, she told me that she still meant what she said. I was going to turn myself in. I was there, I was ready. But Harvey Dent turned himself in instead."

She remembered that. She hadn't believed Dent was the Batman for a minute.

"I'm sure you remember what happened after Dent was arrested."

Selina nodded. The memory was fuzzy, but she vaguely remembered explosions and chaos that ended with Dent half dead in the hospital. Bruce went on, "I didn't mean to save him. I thought I was going after her. But the Joker knew she was important to both me and Dent. She never had a chance. She was dead before any of us got to her."

The way he spoke, she could hardly believe it had been nine years since this happened. The pain was fresh in his voice, and it was clearly excruciating for him to tell her this story.

"What was her name?" Selina asked quietly.

He paused. She knew it would be a difficult name for him to say. "Rachel."

Then there was silence for a moment.

"He already knows we're together," Bruce finally said, turning his eyes on Selina. "You heard the video. Besides Alfred, you'll be his top target."

"I'll make sure he regrets that designation, then" Selina replied. "The past won't repeat itself."

She knew Bruce wasn't convinced, and she knew his fears wouldn't be assuaged until the Joker was either dead or locked away. At least now she understood why.

With a nod, Bruce opened his door, and they exited the vehicle. As they were withdrawing the small amount of luggage they'd brought, a young man of about twenty walked past them and nearly lost his eyes as they bulged from their sockets.

"Nice car, sir!" the man said in Italian when Bruce straightened and noticed his gawking.

Bruce glanced at Selina before looked down at the keys in his hands. She knew what he was going to do almost immediately.

Bruce tossed his keys to the now-bewildered young man and said also in Italian, "Thanks. It's yours if you want it. Title and registration's in the glove compartment."

When the man simply stood there staring dumbfounded at the keys in his hands, Selina rolled her eyes. Then the man looked up, and with a smile and a nod from Bruce, he finally cracked a grin and started laughing.

After many thanks and even a hug that Bruce expertly dodged, they finally managed to get away inside of the airport while the boy celebrated his rather unexpected and random gift of an only several-month old Lamborghini from a complete stranger.

"Ever the philanthropist," Selina said as they made their way across smooth floors.

They didn't have to wait too terribly long to board their flight, but Selina was well aware of how every moment grated on Bruce and set him further on edge. He was quiet and she allowed him to be, mulling over the story he'd told her about the woman he loved.

It explained a lot, but it didn't incite any fear within Selina. She wasn't worried about becoming the Joker's next victim. Instead, she was worried about what would happen if Bruce was the one to die at his hand.

The sudden sharp pain that shot through her chest was her answer.

When boarding began, they were the first to take their seats. Selina tried to ignore the discomfort she felt without her gun strapped to her leg, and attempted to focus on the dark morning sky outside of the small window next to her head.

She was lost in a haze of unorganized and fragmented thoughts when the touch of a hand upon hers startled her attention away from the window.

The plane began its taxi towards the runway, and she glanced up at Bruce as his fingers entwined around hers. He'd never held her hand before, not like this.

He didn't say anything, and he didn't have to.

In a few more moments, the plane was hurtling into the clouds, and they were on their way home.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thank you everyone who reviewed! I love all of you. Tried to get this done yesterday but real life got in the way. Plus I'm dealing with a super demonic computer virus. I may need an exorcist. And a decent anti-virus program in the future. Ugh. **

After two unsatisfying meals, some mild turbulence, and a brief stop in London, Selina and Bruce's flight was finally crossing the Atlantic ocean and nearing American airspace when Selina allowed herself to drift off to sleep at last.

Conversation had been light and brief, as neither of them felt they could speak very freely within such close proximity to other passengers. Selina was seated next to the window but Bruce was the one who stared out of it the most, always with a far-away look in his preoccupied eyes.

Selina's hand still tingled from when he'd held it during takeoff and for a few moments afterward. It was gestures like those that seemed the most intimate, and the pain in her chest returned at a low hum when their hands eventually parted.

She fought sleep for a long time, and when it finally overtook her, she slept for a solid hour until she awoke after a dream interrupted her brief slumber.

Her eyes opened but she didn't move her head from it's unexpected resting place upon Bruce's shoulder, because she felt the weight of his head upon her own and heard even, peaceful breaths fall from his slightly parted lips.

It didn't escape Selina's notice that this was the first time Bruce had allowed himself to fall asleep this close to her since the half-asleep attacking incident in her old apartment weeks ago. During their hotel stays, when he wasn't incapacitated from headaches, he always made sure they slept in very separate areas. She understood why, and she had no desire to awake to confused hands around her throat or any other possible scenarios, but it only underscored the need for him to get help. But help seemed farther away than ever.

She drew in a deep breath and settled into the crook of his neck, closing her eyes as the dream she'd woken from flitted across her mind's eye.

Of all of the odd dreams to have at this point in time, one about her father ranked at the top of that list, and yet, he was who she had dreamed of. It was a replay of a memory from her sixth birthday party, a day that had been probably the best of her entire childhood.

Her parents had made a very modest living, but her mother had spared no expense for her birthday that year. All of the kids from their neighborhood were present for the bash, including a little girl named Annie who Selina had been friends with nearly since birth. The party was perfect, decorated in light shades of pink and purple, full of gifts, laughter, and games, and the best moment had come after all of the presents were opened and she had blown out the candles on her birthday cake, when she thought the fun was finally about to end.

"_I found one more, Selina!_" her father had grinned, walking to her chair at the little round table she sat at, carrying a small box wrapped in shiny pink and purple paper. "_What could this be?"_

She smiled and he crouched down on one knee, holding out the box to her. "_Go ahead, pull off the lid._"

She did, and to her immense delight, two furry ginger paws popped up on the rim of the box, followed by a cute little orange and white face that held thin whiskers, a tiny pink nose and two bright brown eyes as well as a mouth that opened as the little creature peeped, "_Meow_?"

Selina had squeaked happily and her father gently picked up the kitten, who also had a large, bright pink bow tied to its neck, and placed it in his daughter's arms. It was the highlight of the whole day - she'd been begging for a kitten for what had felt like an eternity, and now she finally had her wish.

Then she'd thrown her arm that wasn't holding the cat around her father and half-squealed, "_Thank you, Daddy! I love you!_"

He'd squeezed her back heartily, and her mother had commented from nearby with a smile, "_Well, now there's no question - she's definitely a Daddy's girl now!_"

But Selina could no longer look back on this memory fondly. She hadn't since she was twelve, a year before she ran away. Within the span of one week in the summer of that year, her father had managed to take away what remaining sources of happiness she had left in her life since her mother had passed awa when she was ten.

During a sleepover at with Annie at Selina's house, her father decided they were being too loud, and with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, he stormed into Selina's room and began yelling at the top of his lungs at the girls. Selina started crying, prompting Annie to come to her defense and tell him to stop and that he was scaring them. He responded by whacking Annie across her face with his open hand, and Annie's parents never allowed her to see Selina again.

A few nights later, Selina was in her bed, dried tears on her cheeks as she teetered on the verge of falling asleep for the night when her cat's screech from downstairs sent her eyelids flying wide open.

She'd crept down the stairs as her stomach twisted painfully, anxiety growing as her father's yells got louder the closer she got. She broke into a run when she heard a strangled sound come from her cat, and she'd never forget what she saw next.

He was in the kitchen, as drunk as ever, choking the cat and screaming at it. Selina tried to scream, but her voice was stuck in her throat. Then her father took the cat with one hand around its neck and slammed it into a wall, breaking its back, and then he let go. The cat fell to the floor with a thud and lay motionless, and then he finally looked up to see his daughter standing in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes wide and horrified as tears streamed down her face.

She would later find out that a wet spot on the living room carpet was the cat's only apparent crime, but at that moment it didn't matter what had brought on her father's attack. Selina ran away towards her room when her father tried to go after her, but he eventually caught her, just outside her door, and apologized over and over as she struggled and tried to get away. This made him angry again, however, and he ended up hitting her to try to get her to calm down. When he realized what he'd done, he released her, and she finally took shelter behind her locked bedroom door.

It wasn't the first time he'd hit her since her mother died, but it was the first time she ever felt true, everlasting hatred come to life in her heart. She hated her father from that moment on, and every day became a battle to hold her young self together and find a way out.

Her way out came, of course, months later, when she found herself pinned between him and a kitchen counter, as her head slammed down against the ceramic tile over and over, until she felt blood trickling down the back of her neck and the tile was cracked. That was when she found the strength that had been waiting inside all along, and with the twist of a knife that she managed to pull out of a drawer and sink into her father's side, she freed herself from his grip and ran away as fast as she could, without a single look back. Her only regret was that she hadn't left sooner, and that she hadn't found that inner strength when it was Annie or her cat being brutalized.

Bruce stirred a little bit, and Selina's dark thoughts broke up a bit as he shifted in his seat to get more comfortable. His hand found hers as he slipped back into unconsciousness, and she relaxed against him, staring at their joined hands in something like wonder.

They hadn't talked yet about what Marcus had said about her in the alley back in Grosetto. Once upon a time, she wouldn't have disputed his claim that she wasn't capable of love, commitment, or anything that didn't directly serve her own agenda, though she would have disputed his choice of words. It had never been a question of ability, but of what was smart, and what would prevent her from experiencing more pain. Love was a vulnerability, a liability, and she had never been interested in it.

And when the only male figures in her young life were a father who nearly beat her to death and a glorified pimp who she naively allowed to bed her for years until she struck out on her own, she was especially not interested.

The only men she came to know later were either idiots, liars, cheaters, or very rarely, seemingly good men who she knew would be repulsed by her career as a thief if they were to find out about it, so she didn't even bother with them. It was just as well, she always assured herself - she was perfectly content alone, and it would surely be better this way in the end.

But then she stole a set of fingerprints along with the strand of pearls that were hanging on her neck, and somehow, all of that changed.

She kept staring at their hands, and she thought back to something Bruce had said before they left, when he was trying to convince her to not follow him to Gotham. "He already knows we're together," he'd said, referring to the Joker.

Together.

She couldn't really argue the word's validity. They were clearly together in some way or another, and the ways in which they were seemed to be changing and growing faster than she could keep track of.

A shiver ran down her spine when she recalled those moments before he went to meet Michaels, the way that Bruce had touched her and the way that his eyes had burned into hers as he made love to her. She couldn't call it anything else besides making love, and it was just another nail in her proverbial coffin when it came to Bruce Wayne.

A week ago, she was telling him that he could either deal with being only lovers or hit the road. Today, she was flying back with him to their hometown to help him fight an insane clown and rescue his abducted former butler while holding his hand as they used one another as pillows.

She was so screwed.

With an amused, small grin, Selina cleared her mind of any remaining thoughts about the men who had made her early life a living hell, and closed her eyes as she breathed in Bruce's familiar, comfortable scent.

As she drifted back to sleep, she noted how the pain in her chest was absent at the moment, replaced by something strange and warm that seemed to help lull her as it pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

What strange things she was feeling in her chest these days.

* * *

The plane hit a pocket of turbulence some time later, and Bruce's eyes fluttered open. He looked down and found that his hand was entwined with Selina's, and his head was also resting fully on hers.

With consciousness came the instant feeling of dread and anger of remembering why he was here, why _they_ were here, but the feel of Selina breathing slightly erratically into his neck and seemingly trembling got his attention.

He pulled his head away slightly and looked down at her, and it was clear that she was in the throes of a very unpleasant dream. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gently shook her.

"Selina."

Her eyes popped open almost instantly, and after a moment they focused upon him. She didn't say anything, but her expression was similar to one somebody would have as they said _oh hell_.

Selina straightened and moved away from him into her seat, wrenching her hand free of his, and she dragged a hand over her eyes as Bruce studied her. "Bad dream?"

She shrugged. "It's nothing."

Bruce didn't have the will to try to pull any more information out of her. There was too much going on in his head, and he didn't want to reveal to her the nature of his own nightmares any more than he knew she would.

"How much longer until we land, you think?" she asked.

He checked his watch and replied, "I would guess an hour or so. Hopefully not much more."

Selina yawned and closed her eyes. "I think for once, you slept better than I did."

"Try to get a little bit more rest," Bruce said quietly. "I don't know when we'll get another chance to once we land."

Selina turned her head towards him and said, "I'll manage. You're the one I'm concerned about."

"I'm fine," he muttered. "Not a headache in sight."

Selina didn't respond, turning her eyes to the window as he reached out a hand to smooth down some of the short hairs on her head that were sticking up in random places. She didn't stiffen as she sometimes did when he showed affection, and this was all at once reassuring and frightening.

The closer they got, the bigger of a target she was. There was a voice in Bruce's head telling him to stop, to withdraw his hand as well as his heart, to protect her as much as he still could, but he knew he couldn't.

It had been so long since he felt this way. And his lack of a relationship with Rachel didn't stop the Joker from killing her.

There was no way he could walk away now, that much he knew. He was hanging by a thread right now, and the more time that passed, the more certain he became that she was that very thread.

He tucked behind her ear the only piece of hair still long enough to do so, and she finally turned her eyes back to him. "What happens when we land?"

"Blake's picking us up. We're going to take care of a few things before we get Alfred."

"By 'we' you mean -"

"The three of us," Bruce said. "And the help of one other friend."

"And how are we going to find out where the Joker is?" she pressed. "He's never been an easy man to find."

"Tell me about it," Bruce muttered. "I'm counting on him finding me."

"And what about the rest of Gotham? Are they getting their resident billionaire playboy back?"

Bruce paused this time. "I'm going to do everything in my power to stay dead. I'm not interested in this being a permanent change of address."

"Well," Selina said, "you're going to be recognized by half the city's population the minute you step off this plane."

Bruce gave a small smile and gestured to the bag at his feet. "We'll see how far a hat and sunglasses get me."

Selina rolled her eyes. "I suppose you plan on wearing a mask most of your time here, anyway."

Bruce set his eyes towards the back of the seat in front of him, and fell silent. Besides Alfred's peril and the potential of danger for Selina, this was what was most vexing him. A part of him wanted to put the suit on again, and wear it until the Joker was behind bars for good. But the other part of him wondered if he really was up to it, and if he could tempt fate once again and live to tell about it.

For now, however, he didn't have a choice. When this was over, John could take over again. After this, he was done.

After this, he'd make sure Selina never let him come back to Gotham ever again.

* * *

When they touched down at Gotham International Airport, Selina tried not to laugh as Bruce pulled out a pair of aviator sunglasses and a Gotham Knights baseball cap - just the name of the team was so pointedly and obviously attractive to Bruce that she found it hilarious, but she held back her laughter.

Her laughter died, however, when the plane halted at their gate and she realized she was about to breathe Gotham's polluted air once more. She could have spent the whole day loathing this fact, but she was exhausted, still a bit shaken from her dreams (the second of which had invariably been her recurring nightmare involving Bane beating Bruce senseless in the sewers) and not to mention sore from enduring nearly nine hours of flying. Of course, Gotham's time zone was eight hours behind Italy's, so the day was just breaking here. It was a good thing jet-lag and sleep were the absolute last things she was worried about at the moment.

They waited silently until most of the other passengers had gone on before they began the short walk off of the plane and across the walkway that led to the gate. They were halfway there when Bruce interrupted her thoughts on how good it felt to stretch her legs when he asked quietly, "I forgot to ask you - what am I calling you while we're here?"

"Helena," Selina answered, glancing at Bruce. "Helena Adamson."

"Helena?" Bruce repeated.

"It was my mother's name," Selina replied.

"It's beautiful," Bruce said, "but the idea of an alias is having a name that can't tie you to your real one."

Selina shot him a smile. "Yes, but remember, nobody can prove who I really am. Changing my name is just a formality at this point. I could even go back to my real name if I wanted."

"That's true," Bruce said. "Maybe one day you should."

Maybe she would, she mused as they finally stepped foot inside the bustling airport. Bruce knew this airport a fair bit better than she did, so she followed him to the baggage claim area to retrieve the bag that contained her most important possessions, and once that was secure, she asked, "What now?"

Bruce glanced at his phone and gestured forward. "Our ride should be waiting."

They slipped through the crowds of people anonymously, nobody giving either of them a second glance, and Selina wanted to laugh at the stupidity of people. She could easily recognize Bruce Wayne no matter what sort of sun protection he was wearing, but then again, Gotham's citizens probably hadn't committed to their memories everything about him down to each line on his face and the smooth curves of his lips the way that she had. But that worked perfectly well for her.

It wasn't long before they were stepping outside into the warmth of the morning sun, but it only lasted a moment until Bruce led her to a very nondescript black sedan sitting across the street in a five-minute waiting parking spot.

She knew who would be driving the car, so she didn't hesitate to step inside the backseat of the car when Bruce opened the door for her. He slipped in beside her a moment later, and from the driver's seat, John Blake turned around and eyed them as he said, "Welcome back to Gotham."

* * *

Meanwhile, not far from Crime Alley in a tall dilapidated building covered in papers announcing it condemned, the Joker wore a smile even wider than usual as he hung up his phone.

He was in the small, musty room he'd been using as a bedroom, and this was exactly the news he'd been hoping for. He knew he'd come. He would always come. Even if he hadn't threatened the life of one of his dearest loved ones, he was pretty sure the man would have come anyway. It was all part of the strange, irresistible bond-thing they had, the pull of two men who were the other's antithesis and perhaps equal, perfect illustrations of the differences between black and white with all of the contradictions of gray thrown in as well.

In short, Batman was fun. Always had been, always would be. And after eight long years in Arkham, the Joker was long overdue for some fun.

A broken mirror hung on the wall across the stained and crumbling mattress at the center of the room, and as he checked the quality of the garish makeup he'd just applied before he got the call from his man at the airport, a girl's small towel-covered figure appeared at the far left corner of the mirror, emerging from the adjoining bathroom.

She was more cute than she was beautiful, petite and blonde, young and capable of far more than one would think upon first glance. But he'd known something was different, special, about her from the first moment she sat down across from him at Arkham with the intent of analyzing him. Yes, he'd played her like a fiddle, and she'd come in a handy quite a bit since he'd made her fall desperately in love with him.

But, she also annoyed him to the point of violence at times, and he thought this may be one of those times.

Sure enough, she sauntered to him with all the grace of the former gymnast that she was, and her wet hair dripped on the back of his green vest as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind. "Was that good news, Mr. J?"

At the best of times, her girlish voice was bearable. Right now it grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard. And her hair was getting his suit wet.

"It was... great news," he said, looking at her reflection as he pondered the best way to be rid of her for the moment. "Great news."

She smiled, and he continued to stare at her through the mirror. Her arms tightened around him and he felt her body move just barely against him from behind as she murmured, "Time to celebrate."

One brush of her lips against his ear and he snapped. Within seconds his hand was enclosed around her throat as he slammed her into the wall with enough force to make her see stars and send the towel to the floor.

"It _is_ time to celebrate," he said in a dangerously low voice as his tongue darted out and tasted the red lipstick that outlined his lips and accompanying scars. "For _me_ to celebrate. But you, sweet little Harley, need to go and be a good girl and do what you're here to do. Got that?" He tightened his grip on her neck for a moment, watching her face change colors and enjoying it.. "Or do I need to make myself a little... more... _clear_?"

Finally, he released her. She collapsed to the floor and coughed wildly with wide eyes, but he knew his attack would only deter her briefly. And that was fine. He'd accept her advances some other time. She was always ready and willing for anything he asked. She had been ever since he first seduced her in Arkham, purely for the purpose of using her to escape but, as insane as he was, he was still a man, and he did enjoy the extra benefits that came with having her as an "assistant". Just not right now, when he had much more important things to tend to.

He started giggling uncontrollably. "Look at you," he cackled, kicking the discarded towel towards her bare, still-coughing form. "One little choke and you fall to pieces! Haven't I taught you better than that?"

He turned away as she grabbed the towel and covered herself, and he withdrew a small blade from his pant pocket as he laughed through unparted lips. He skipped towards the bed and then turned back around, tossing the blade into the air and catching it as it spun back towards the earth. He caught it by the razor-sharp end and paid no mind to the blood now oozing from his palm. He continued this process of tossing and catching the knife as he muttered, "Oh, Batsy, Batsy, Batsy - how do I even _start_ planning your _welcome home party_?"

**A/N #2: Harley Quinn... yeeeaaahhhhh (LOL)**

**A/N: #3: About Selina's new alias... I know Helena's her daughter's name in the comics. I actually just checked out a huge stack of Batman comics from the library other day (I love free things lol) and I left a huge gaping hole in their shelves, ahahaha. I'm loving getting into the comics though, even the cheesy old ones. I also bought a Batman hoodie that has bat ears on the hoodie part. I had a Batgasm when I bought it. Yeah, I just said Batgasm. :D  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: two updates in two days - heh. Next one may take a little longer - still figuring out what exactly I'm going to make happen :D Thank you to everyone who reviewed/alerted/faved, I love each of you. This story's gonna crack 200 reviews soon, which is a first for me. Yay! **

For everything the city had been through in the last year, it's citizens were marching on as determined as ever. That much was clear as Selina watched the city pass by outside her window, and she was admittedly impressed by how far it had come since Bane's defeat. Kids played on sidewalks and structures that had been destroyed were being rebuilt, and in all, somehow the city seemed better for having gone through what it did.

"Do you have any leads on the Joker?" Bruce asked John, taking Selina's attention away from Gotham.

"I have one," John replied, glancing into his rear view mirror. "Alfred's girlfriend runs a clinic next to Crime Alley, and she tells me -"

"Alfred's girlfriend?" Bruce repeated with slightly raised eyebrows. "Alfred has a girlfriend now?"

"Sure does," John half-grinned. "Dr. Leslie Thompkins. She hears a lot of things running her clinic, and she thinks he's somewhere near Crime Alley."

At the sound of the doctor's name, Selina's eyes widened. She and Dr. Thompkins went way back, starting when Selina burned down Marcus Michaels' base of operations. It was her clinic that she took some of the child prostitutes to after rescuing them from that cesspool, and Leslie became something of a friend after that. In fact, she was the only Gotham citizen besides Holly Robinson that Selina checked in on regularly during Bane's occupation.

"Seems too easy," Bruce said.

"Maybe that's the point," John said. "He wants you to find him."

"He'll be expecting us," Bruce muttered. "Everything's happening on his terms. This has to change."

"Yeah, well, unfortunately, nobody wants to believe that the Joker's even alive. Gordon's doing what he can, but the new mayor is terrified of what will happen if everyone knows he's still around, still plotting chaos. Something terrible will have to happen before they start taking their heads out of the sand."

Bruce sighed and Selina stayed silent, the gears in her head turning the same way Bruce's surely were. The next time she looked up, she saw that they were heading directly towards Wayne Enterprises. She glanced at Bruce, and he caught her eye and said, "Pit stop with Lucius."

Moments later, John's car was turning down an alley and parking in front of a closed building that was two blocks from WE. Bruce answered Selina's question before she asked it. "I installed a few secret entrances to Wayne Enterprises just in case I ever needed to slip in or out unnoticed."

"Of course you did," Selina replied, catching a glance of John's eyes in the rearview mirror as he turned off the engine. He quickly looked away, but Selina could only assume the look he'd shot her meant he still wasn't her biggest fan. She would have to try not to be too anguished by this.

Then they were out of the car and walking into the innocent-looking building, Bruce leading the way as he took them down a winding flight of stairs that led to an underground tunnel connecting to WE.

"Is this really necessary?" Selina asked, unsurprised to see sleeping bats lining the corners of the tunnel's ceiling.

"Well," Bruce said after taking off his sunglasses, "if I just walked into Wayne Enterprises, I _would_ be recognized in about half a second."

"You really think you can do what you came here to do and not be recognized once?" John asked. "That's gonna be hard."

"Not as hard as surviving a nuclear blast," Bruce smiled, earning a grin from both John and Selina.

In a few more minutes they came to a door, and when Bruce forced it open, and a few steps later, they were standing in the midst of Wayne Enterprise's Research and Development department.

"Bruce Wayne."

Lucius Fox stood up from a desk not far away from where they stood, and he shook his head slightly as he walked towards them with a smile that was mirrored on Bruce's face.

"Would it have killed you to let somebody know that you fixed the autopilot?" the older man chided as he shook Bruce's hand.

Bruce grinned. "I knew you'd figure it out sooner or later."

Lucius shook his head again and turned his eyes to Selina. "Miss Kyle - I can't say I'm surprised to see you here as well."

There was a knowing twinkle in Lucius' eye, and Selina replied, "I go by Helena Adamson these days, Mr. Fox."

"Lovely name," Lucius said before glancing at Bruce. "And you?"

"John Lambert," Bruce replied.

"That's just too many Johns for one room," Lucius remarked.

"So call him Robin," Bruce gestured towards the real John, who visibly cringed a little bit.

Lucius looked in confusion to John. "Robin?"

"Did you get my message?" John asked Lucius flatly, eager to change the subject.

"I did," Lucius said, turning and motioning for the three of them to follow him. "I've done the best I can with the short notice as you gave me."

He stopped in front of a row of drawers and pulled one out, displaying pieces of a new suit of armor that was identical to Bruce's old one. "Mr. Wayne - I've been told you and John here don't want to share suits."

Bruce gave a small smile. "I only plan on needing one for for a very short period of time."

"I'm glad to hear it," Lucius said, closing the drawer and grabbing the handle of the one above it. "Now this I'd like to have more time to work on. It's mostly the same as the others, except a bit more lightweight, and I did add an extra feature."

He pulled open the drawer to reveal a distinctly more feminine suit, one that Selina feasted her surprised eyes on before looking up at Bruce and then Lucius with a grin on her lips. "Looks like Christmas came early for me this year."

Everyone chuckled except John, but Selina paid him no mind as Lucius picked up a long, spiked glove from her suit and handed it to her. "Try it on."

She took the surprisingly light yet nearly impenetrable piece and slipped it on over her right hand. It covered all the way up to her elbow and fit perfectly, as she flexed her fingers Lucius placed one of his fingers on her wrist. "There's a very small switch right here."

"A switch?" she asked, taking her other hand and touching lightly where he had, and sure enough, there was a switch. She flicked it, and long razor-sharp "claws" immediately appeared from her the glove's fingertips.

"I was told you have a thing for cats?" Lucius grinned.

"If I didn't before, I sure as hell do now," she replied, admiring the five deadly little weapons that looked as if they'd sprouted from her fingers. To test their sharpness, she casually reached over to Bruce and, with a lazy swipe of her pointer finger, sliced off the top button of his shirt.

The little button rolled to the floor and, satisfied, Selina flipped the switch and retracted the claws.

Lucius raised an eyebrow to Bruce. "I take it life's never dull with this one."

Bruce smiled as Selina slipped off the glove. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

A lesser woman would have blushed, and to her horror, Selina nearly did. But the warmth that rushed to her face never manifested in her skin, and her attention was diverted when she saw the mask that accompanied the armor. "You really took the cat thing literally, Mr. Fox."

"Like I said," Lucius replied, "I didn't have a lot of time, so I kept the theme fairly constant."

He handed her the mask and said, "There's a release latch under the part that goes just above your ear. Try to take it off any other way and you'll get quite a shock."

She looked over the mask before putting it on, and though the small cat ears on the top of the mask gave her pause, she slipped it on over her head anyway and found it to be just a bit too snug, but other than that, it felt fine and her line of sight through the cat-slanted eyes was perfect. Now she just had to try not to feel incredibly cheesy, or like a little girl on Halloween.

She slid her fingers under the mask above her ears and pressed the latch as Lucius had instructed, and slid the mask from her face. "Thank you, Mr. Fox."

"Don't mention it," Lucius nodded. "Just next time, I'd prefer to have more than 24 hours to have these things ready for you people."

Bruce smiled, finally taking his eyes off Selina. She hadn't noticed the way he looked at her when she'd had the mask on. "Thank you, Lucius. I owe you."

Lucius shrugged and said, "Well, once this crisis is over, I could use your help proving our fraud case. But that's a conversation for another day. What's the plan?"

"Either he's gonna find me, or I'm gonna find him," Bruce replied.

"Need a car?" Lucius asked. "I've still got a Tumbler or two hanging around here. Even a black one."

"No," Bruce shook his head. "I want this to be quick and quiet. Get Alfred and make sure the Joker doesn't get away. I don't want this to be the return of Batman."

Lucius nodded, but with a more grim expression he said, "You and I both know that where the Joker's concerned, things are rarely quick and quiet."

* * *

Later, Selina was back in John's car and was headed to a place she'd never seen before but had wondered about often - the fabled Batcave. They were almost to the waterfall when Bruce's hand brushed hers.

"Mind if I call you Catwoman from now on?" he asked with a small grin. She could tell from his eyes, however, that his stress was nearly at his peak, and it was taking real effort for him to do this.

"_Catwoman_," she repeated with a breathless chuckle. "The funny thing is, a cat is what I'd have chosen if you had asked me. But I'm not sure about the ears."

"You're talking to a guy who's been running around in a cape and bat ears for years," Bruce replied in a forcibly lighthearted tone. "I don't think you have a lot to worry about."

Selina grinned. "Who knew the Batman had such a sense of humor about himself?"

"All right," John interrupted as water washed over the car. "We're here."

And that they were. Selina's eyes raked over the dark cave as she got out of the car, surprised by the odd beauty of the place as well as the computers and other devices that sat huddled in the middle of the cave.

"I've made a few renovations," John said, "and replenished your supply of Batarangs. I also -"

"It's not my supply," Bruce quickly said. "All of this is yours. I meant what I told Lucius. Once this over, I'm leaving Gotham for good."

John put his hands on his hips and looked down as he nodded, then raised his eyes as he said, "Well, plans change. And this will always be yours. You know that."

Bruce exhaled and let his eyes wander to Selina, who was now wandering around the cave and currently inspecting the computers. John followed his gaze to her and said, "You really trust her?"

Bruce looked back to John and nodded. "Yes."

"After everything she did to you?"

"Like saving my life when she killed Bane?" Bruce retorted. "None of us would be standing here if not for her. You know that."

"I never said I wasn't grateful for her last minute change of heart," John replied. "But trust is something different altogether."

"I never asked you to trust her," Bruce muttered, getting irritated. "And you're not going to change my opinion of her."

Bruce wanted this to be the end of the conversation, but John apparently had one last thing to say. "You trusted Miranda Tate, too."

Selina knew that the boys obviously thought they were talking low enough for her to not hear them, but her hearing had always been quite excellent, and she was not impressed with John Blake at the moment. She didn't care what he thought of her - in fact, she was merely amused by his distrust - but bringing up Miranda Tate was uncalled for. Even she had never brought up that woman, and she knew from the whispers around Gotham back then that she and Bruce had been something, if only briefly.

"This conversation's over," Bruce said flatly as he turned around and glared at the younger man before joining Selina at the cave's center.

She already knew he trusted her, but it felt good to hear the words all the same.

"You know," Selina said quietly as Bruce came to stand next to her, "cats and birds never get along. It's only natural."

"I knew you'd hear everything," Bruce half-grinned. "It's fine. He's hotheaded and questions everything. That's why I chose him to inherit the Batcave. And Batman."

"I don't question your judgement," Selina smiled. "Especially now that I've heard you proclaim your trust in me."

"Is the trust mutual?" Bruce asked quietly.

He should know the answer to this, and she suspected that he did, but like her, he liked hearing the words. So she gave him a light kiss on his lips - half for him, half for John whom she knew would be annoyed when he saw it - and then said, "Of course it is."

* * *

His body was exhausted, but Bruce would sooner don Selina's cat ears and skip down Crime Alley singing show tunes than wait until morning to find Alfred. The anger and determination in his mind gave him the energy he needed to focus, and he spent the next hour sitting in front of the computer, examining satellite footage of where Dr. Thompkins suspected the Joker of holding Alfred and narrowing down possible locations. There were quite a few abandoned buildings and some places of business that had been shut down for their mob connections, but since Bane's occupation even Gotham's worst criminals had kept a low profile, and there wasn't a lot to go on. But, because Bruce knew the Joker wanted to be found by him, he suspected the most obvious-seeming place would probably be it, and he also suspected there would even be clues at the scene just in case he did get off track.

The Joker may have liked to call himself a man of his word, but Bruce didn't trust for a minute that he would stick to his promise not to kill Alfred if Batman returned. If anything, he knew the Joker would be extra-motivated to kill him, since it was a surefire way start another war with Batman. And that seemed to be what he wanted.

It all came down to the minute Bruce found him. He had to change the game and move several steps in front of his enemy when he did, or otherwise, the cards would stay in the Joker's hands.

Putting on the Batsuit felt the same as it always did, although before, when times were not full of death and chaos, it had been thrilling. A part of him would always thrive off of this, because he was a warrior. But then, at one point in time, this suit had swallowed his entire identity, and it had become a fight to not lose his soul to it.

He wouldn't let that happen again. Not now, when he'd come so far, and so close to having a life he could actually love.

The Joker wanted a fight, and he'd get one. But he would take nothing more. Not this time.

The clicking of heels behind him alerted Bruce to Selina's presence. His mask in his hands, he turned around and took in the sight of the new alter ego he'd dubbed Catwoman only about an hour ago - tall, lithe, deadly, untamed, beautiful. Masked and ready for a fight.

He'd have to thank Lucius a second time for her suit. It seemed to fit even better than her old one, and unlike that one, this one's protection would ease some of the anxiety in his mind. And even in his current state, he had a feeling he'd want to see a lot more of this suit, even when they weren't hunting down psychotic clowns.

Without a word, Selina walked to Bruce and took his mask from his hands. His eyes didn't leave hers once as she gently held the mask over his head and then eased it down over his hair, her hands lingering near his face long after it was fully on.

"Ready?" she asked, tracing his lips with a gloved finger.

He answered her with a kiss. In truth, he hadn't been ready until he turned around and saw her. But now, he was more than ready.

* * *

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Oh, look at all the pretty decorations! I think he'll _like_ this. Tell me, Al - what's his favorite color?"

The Joker looked to Alfred expectantly as he fixed a bright yellow and orange party hat atop his green hair. Harley was snickering as she hung streamers along walls that reeked of mold, and Alfred was staring blankly at his captor, free of his gag but bound to his usual chair that he was only moved from several times a day to use the putrid bathroom.

"It's _black_, isn't it?" the Joker said, crinkling his nose. "So boring. See, I like color. Color adds happiness, personality - you know, if I had to choose another career, it would be interior design. I have an eye for certain things. Like, for example - this carpet," he motioned to the floor under his feet, "would look just _darling_ with a dash of red. Perk it up a little bit, you know what I mean?" He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes on Alfred. "I think a few pints of your blood will do the trick."

Alfred's stare remained blank. He looked as if he were watching an immensely boring television show, and this began to get annoying.

"You know," the Joker said, taking out his knife from his pocket and walking to Alfred, "you're starting to bore me. Would you like me to put a smile on that blank face of yours?"

He swooped in close to Alfred and held the blade to his mouth. Finally, for the first time since he'd been captured, Alfred spoke.

"Do what you wish. I'm not afraid of you."

The Joker raised his eyebrows and said, "_Okay!_", then stuck the blade inside Alfred's mouth.

He placed enough pressure upon the blade to draw a few drops of blood from the right corner of the butler's mouth, but the man did not tremble or express any pain. He stared defiantly into the Joker's eyes and didn't even blink.

"Well, well - you _are_ a brave one. And stupid," the Joker said as he withdrew the knife and stepped away. "Don't worry. I have a lot planned for you. But I don't want to have all the fun before our, ah - _guest of honor_ gets here."

"Harley - go get your costume on," he barked, walking over to the girl and snatching a small bunch of balloons from her hands. "I want everything to be _perfect_. Gosh," he said, looking around at the rather eerie and mismatched decorations that they'd placed around the living room and front doorway, "Forget interior design. I should be a party planner."

**A/N #2: I'd definitely hire The Joker's Event Planning & Design for my next bash. Anyone else? :p**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Ah, I love all of you. Thank you everyone who reviewed, you're all the best. More complete A/N at the end! For now, let the chaos begin :)**

The night air in Gotham was cool but it felt strangely heavy, almost like breathing in smoke, and it made Selina miss Italy more than she already did.

Though her past had caught up with her there, in her mind the country still represented peace and anonymity, and some far-fetched idea of spending the rest of her life tangled with Bruce underneath her sheets while the rest of the world went on with it's business, letting them live in peace. How quickly that idea had been shot to crap.

Italy had never been farther away than it was now, as she crouched on a ledge of a closed pharmacy that overlooked Crime Alley. Blake was on the other side of the alley, hidden in the shadows like she was (dressed in identical armor to Bruce's but wearing a much smaller mask that kept only his eyes covered), both of them watching as Bruce approached a condemned building that a neon colored banner hung on the front door of, bearing the words "_WELCOME HOME_!"

"A little too obvious for my taste," she muttered.

"I'm going in," Bruce whispered, preparing to kick in the unlocked door for no real reason other than the fact that he was pissed.

"We'll be watching," John replied.

Selina rolled her eyes. It was convenient, the earpieces they were wearing that allowed the three of them to communicate, but Blake's voice was irritating to her when it beat directly against her ear drum.

Her gun was drawn and ready - both she and John had brought theirs, against Bruce's passionate protests - and she leapt from the ledge and landed gracefully on her feet as he made quick work of the crumbling house's door.

She stayed in the shadows, watching as he stepped inside the pitch-black building. She knew the plan - she and John were his backup, and they were supposed to stay out of the fray for as long as possible. The priority was Alfred, and if at any point it looked as if his death was imminent, they would know what to do.

Bruce took his second step inside the house, and at once, all of the lights flew on and Selina heard an unmistakable voice screech, "_Surpriiiiise_!"

* * *

Bruce's fists clenched at his sides as he beheld the bizarre sight of the Joker jumping out of a giant cake in the center of what looked to be a living room covered in horrible party decorations of all colors, holding Alfred, bound and gagged, and pressing a knife to his throat.

"Welcome to the party!" he grinned as Bruce's eyes connected with Alfred's. "I spent all day putting this together - I hope you like it."

"I'm here - you got what you wanted," Bruce rasped. "Let him go."

"Oh, the voice isn't necessary anymore, is it - _Mister Wayne_?" the Joker replied, tongue running rapidly over the his lips. "There's no secrets between us anymore."

"Let him go," Bruce repeated, voice even heavier this time.

The Joker rolled his eyes. "You know, I go through all this trouble to throw you a party and I don't even get a _thank_ _you_. Didn't mommy ever teach you manners? Or did she croak before she got the chance to?"

Whatever anger that would have been coursing through his veins at the clown's words was put on hold when Alfred winked at Bruce.

Bruce instantly knew what the wink meant. Incredibly, Alfred suddenly grabbed the arm of the Joker that was holding the knife and twisted it, while the ropes that had been apparently badly tied around his wrists fell, and then, even more incredibly, Alfred head-butted him.

Bruce quickly descended upon the Joker as Alfred staggered back from the impact of his aged head's attack, grabbing him and throwing him out of the cake and to the floor.

"Alfred, go!" Bruce commanded as he picked up the now-hysterically laughing Joker by his hair and shoved him face-first against the wall. But before the butler could go anywhere, something hard and tight suddenly enclosed upon Bruce's throat and began choking him.

The shock of it and the fact that it was tighter around his neck than a hand had ever been was what caused Bruce's grip on the Joker to loosen, and as he pulled at the thing in vain, the Joker turned and wore a satisfied smile. "Ah, yes - thank you, Harley. Although, remind me to teach you how to properly tie knots later."

Behind Bruce, holding a whip that was wrapped around his neck many times, was Harley Quinn, wearing a half-black, half-red bodysuit, and sporting pigtails that sat high on her head. One pigtail was blonde and the other had been painted red, and the ends were balled up in a way that made her hair almost look like a jester's hat. "Don't mention it, Mr. J."

While Bruce sputtered, the Joker pulled out a second knife from his ankle and calmly said, "This house belonged to some real freaky people before - we found that whip that's choking you in a closet upstairs. Strange, don't you think?"

Bruce was preparing to spin around and overpower Harley when several things happened nearly at once - Alfred picked up a chair with the intent of bashing it over Harley's head, but he was pushed away by the newly arrived Selina, who said, "I've got this one, Alfred," as she released her claws.

Bruce's face was turning purple as he watched Selina grab Harley by her hair and punch her in the face, slashing her hand with her claws as she tore the whip away from the girl. Harley fell to the floor, and a second later Bruce was free and Selina stashed the whip in between her suit and utility belt that housed her extra ammunition. In the midst of it all, Blake took Alfred and rushed him out of the house without being noticed by anyone but Selina.

He lunged for the Joker, who was waiting with his knife, and when Selina moved to help, Harley withdrew her own knife and scrambled up from the floor and tried to plunge the knife into Selina's back. The suit protected her, however, and with a sigh, Selina turned around and said in a low voice, "You did not just try to stab me."

Harley raised her eyebrows, knife still pointed at Selina, and Selina asked, "Who are you, anyway?"

Harley tried to swipe at Selina's face, but Selina ducked and then kicked her in the gut when she came back up.

"Harley Quinn," the girl sputtered as she held her stomach.

Harley came at Selina again, and this time, Selina kicked the knife from her hand as well as left a gash in the side of her odd bodysuit courtesy of her claws. "Well, Harley Quinn," she said, "you look ridiculous."

Unexpectedly, Harley responded by performing a backflip and kicking Selina in her face with both feet.

Meanwhile, the Joker had produced a crowbar from thin air, and Bruce had been trying to fight him while keeping an eye on Selina, though he knew she could hold her own. The Joker laughed harder every time one of Bruce's blows hit him, though not nearly as hard as when his crowbar connected with Bruce's jaw.

He staggered back for a moment, and the Joker took the opportunity to whack him square across the head.

_One, two, three, four_. Four times he struck Bruce in the head.

The pain was blinding, searing, and Bruce dropped to the floor.

The Joker stood over him and leered as he suppressed his giggles. "Not as strong as you used to be? Well, that takes some of the fun out of this, but I'm sure I'll manage..."

Across the room, the girls were pummeling each other, and a shriek from Harley didn't even gain so much as a twitch in the Joker's face. He raised the crowbar again, and Bruce forced his feet to kick as hard as they possibly could in his weakened state.

It paid off, sending the Joker stumbling back long enough for Bruce to force himself back to his feet. His head was throbbing and his vision was swimming, but Bruce managed to gain the upper hand back, disarming the Joker of his crowbar and eventually pinning him to the wall with his arm.

"Ha ha ha, hee, hee, hoo!" the Joker laughed the whole time, "I guess you're not as decrepit as I thought!"

"This is over," Bruce snarled as Selina threw Harley's head into the wall, knocking her out. His head was pounding so hard that he could feel the contents of his stomach moving up in his throat, but as long as he was here, and this psychopath was in front of him, he had to hold it together.

"Oh, it's just beginning," the Joker replied, grinning widely. "I had to make sure that if you rescued your kindly old butler, I had a _plan B_ ready to make you so angry that you wouldn't have a choice but to stay in Gotham."

"What did you do?" Bruce growled, slamming him against the wall once more.

After he finished giggling at the pain, the Joker said, "Oh, what _haven't_ I done?"

Bruce punched him in the face. "Tell me!"

"Ha! Ha! That was a good one!" he cackled. "All right, all right, I'll tell you. You know how you turned your big fancy mansion into an orphanage after you supposedly 'died'? Well... it _might have_ blown up a few minutes ago."

Bruce took him by his vest and threw him to the ground. The sound of sirens began blaring outside, and the Joker said, "Don't believe me? You'll be hearing a lot more sirens tonight, all headed to your old house."

In between his now blistering rage and pain that wasn't subsiding, Bruce felt himself teetering on the brink of losing control. He dragged his enemy up and pushed him across the room, then threw him into the only window, which promptly shattered. He heard Selina calling after him a few times, warning him that he was going to kill the Joker if he continued, but none of her words registered in his anguishing brain. The Joker never stopped laughing, and the sound only drove him further towards the edge.

But the pain overcame him before his conscious could, and as the Joker lay on the floor, bleeding but still giggling, Bruce stumbled against the wall and fell to his knees. He could no longer see straight, or see much of anything at all, and Selina's frantic voice was the last thing he heard before his world went black.

* * *

This was exactly what she'd been afraid of.

Bruce was passed out on the floor, next to a laughing madman and his equally deranged girlfriend. Blake wasn't back yet from taking Alfred to safety, and now she had to improvise.

"Ah... ha... _oh_. I haven't had that much fun in years," the Joker said, sitting up. He glanced over at Bruce and added, "although not nearly as much fun as this one had, by the looks of it."

Selina went to Bruce and turned him on his back, checking that he was still breathing before she worried about anything else. When she stood back up, the Joker was back on his feet as well, tossing Harley over his shoulder with a great bit of effort.

She pulled out her gun and aimed it at his head. "You've got nowhere to go. Gordon's men have a perimeter set up."

He glanced back at her with a look of incredulity. "'_A perimeter_'? Oh _no_! I've _never_ gotten past one of those before, have I?"

He walked a few steps towards the front door, and she decided to give him a warning. "I'm not like him. I'll shoot you without a second thought."

He turned around, grinning at her as he said, "You know, I like you a lot more than that last floozy he was obsessed with. She was a little too damsel in distress for my taste, but you - _you're_ going to be a lot of fun."

She pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, as she did, he disappeared into a trap door beneath his feet with Harley and was gone before the bullet could even graze him.

Predictably, Blake walked in a moment later. Selina holstered her gun and snapped, "Your timing sucks."

"What the hell happened?" he asked, following her to Bruce.

Together, they lifted him up and supported him as they hastily headed out of the house. "I was busy with Harley, but I think the Joker hit him in the head with a crowbar. A lot. Then he told Bruce that... "

"That what?" Blake demanded as they got to the street.

She sighed. The sirens were so loud that she had to shout. "He said he blew up the orphanage. Wayne Manor."

The horror that flashed in John's eyes was reflected in Selina's, but his quickly became anger and pure hurt.

"He could be lying," Selina attempted as they rounded a corner.

"No," John muttered. "That's what all these sirens are for. On my way back from taking Alfred to the clinic I saw the whole fire department heading that way."

How many children lived in that orphanage? Hundreds, surely. Hundreds of pawns in a madman's pointless, horrible, sadistic as well as masochistic game. For all of the horrible things Gotham had experienced, this outright slaughter of children would surely rank near the top.

Seconds later they reached Dr. Thompkin's clinic, and the doctor and Alfred were waiting for them inside.

"Oh my - oh, Selina, dear, we'll have to catch up later," Leslie said as her eyes widened at the sight of the unconscious Batman. She rolled a gurney towards them and said, "Put him here, gently."

They did as she said, and she called for a few nurses to assist her as she looked him over.

Selina carefully removed his mask and robotically answered Leslie's questions about what injuries he had sustained tonight, but she found herself at a loss for words at Leslie's final question.

"What can you tell me about the nature of his past injuries? Any chronic issues, things like that?"

Selina sighed, looking upon Bruce's deceptively peaceful face, and muttered, "His back was broken last year. The rest of him's shot, but he's never stopped training, so otherwise he's in decent shape, but... he... gets these headaches, and..."

All eyes were on her now, and she forced herself to keep talking. "And they last for days. It incapacitates him. Makes him delirious, makes him throw up."

She glanced at Alfred, and the hurt in his eyes at her words was unbearable. John looked bewildered, and Selina realized she was the only person in Bruce's life who knew the extent of his health issues.

"Okay," Leslie said gently. "I'll take it from here."

And with that, she rolled Bruce away to the back, leaving the three of them alone in the lobby. Selina looked at Alfred again, and he looked like he was about to cry. John began pacing, leaving the two of them effectively alone.

"He should have listened to me," Alfred muttered, staring at the floor. "I knew it was too much. It was always too much. And now for him to come back..."

Alfred shook his head, and Selina tried to think of something to say, despite how awkward she felt. "I didn't want him to come back either."

Alfred raised his eyes to her, and with tears swimming in his eyes, he said, "You've been taking care of him."

She nodded. She didn't think of their relationship in a caretaker sense, but it was true. She had been.

"Thank you."

She didn't know what to say. Alfred's emotion was contagious, and luckily, Commissioner Gordon burst in at that moment and saved her the stress of thinking of a reply.

John rushed to meet him. "Why are you here? You should be at the orphanage!"

"And you shouldn't be here, either!" Gordon yelled back. "He shouldn't have let this madman bait him into coming back, he should have let me handle it. And I never should have gone along with this half-witted plan tonight..."

"Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?" John challenged. "Did you get a lead on the Joker?"

"No," Gordon replied, "he blew the damn tunnel in under the trap door. And nobody but you people saw him, so even though he kidnapped someone and blew up an orphanage, I still can't prove to the Mayor that he's even alive, let alone responsible."

Gordon looked from the now indignant John to Alfred and Selina, and asked quietly, "Was he hurt?"

Selina nodded. "They're working on him now."

Gordon nodded and looked away, frustration and anger etched on each line of his face. "I didn't even know he was alive until today. Somebody keep me updated," he muttered as he left the clinic.

Selina glanced at John, whose young face was full of agitation and anger. Alfred still looked forlorn, and though Selina was the picture of calm on the outside, inside she was just as shaken as they were, if not more so.

She wanted to take off her mask, but the clinic wasn't quite private enough for her to feel comfortable doing so. Blake had gone and locked the doors after Gordon left, but there was still medical staff here, and Selina felt safer somehow under the mask.

Her mind was with Bruce, craving information on his condition, dreading the pain he would feel when he was conscious again and had to cope with tonight's slaughter. The Joker would surely succeed in getting a war from Batman after this, but how long until Bruce himself became a casualty of that war? A few whacks on the head tonight and he was rendered useless in the middle of battle. If she hadn't been there, only God knows what would have happened to him.

He'd come so close to losing control before he passed out. She wondered if the Joker would have survived Bruce's wrath had he not lost consciousness. His rage had certainly been more than understandable, and Selina thought that someone should have put the Joker out of his misery a long time ago rather than just lock him in a padded cell, but she also knew that it would have destroyed Bruce if he'd become the madman's executioner.

She wished her bullet would have hit him. If she'd squeezed the trigger just a fraction of a second earlier it would have.

None of them sat while they waited, and few words were shared. Selina counted the seconds until Leslie finally reappeared what felt like hours later.

"You can all go see him now if you want, but only one at a time," Leslie said. "He woke up while I was examining him but he was delirious. Said his head was hurting. He asked for you," she looked at Selina, "and I explained that he was in my clinic and that I was going to take care of him. He's sedated now. I'm waiting on more films and more test results but..."

Leslie pulled out a few X-ray photos and held them up towards the nearest lightbulb. "This is his spine. As you can see quite clearly, it did not heal correctly. I don't know how he's walking at all. He needs surgery to correct it. As for his brain, I'm waiting on more results. But from what you told me, and based on my examination, I suspect a traumatic brain injury that has never healed and possibly got much worse tonight. His intracranial pressures are quite high."

"Can - can you treat that?" Selina asked nervously.

"I will do everything I possibly can for him, dear," Leslie said, placing a hand on Selina's shoulder. "He's in room B-3. I'll let you know as soon as I know more."

As the doctor walked away, Selina suddenly felt like a bucket of ice water had been dropped over her head. She glanced at Alfred and muttered, "You go see him first."

He turned his sad eyes on her and shook his head. "He asked for you, Miss Kyle."

Somehow, every time the elder man spoke so much as a word, her urge to cry seemed to triple. So she gave him a quick nod and raced towards the back of the clinic, removing her mask when Bruce's room came into view.

She steadied herself with a deep breath before she stepped in, but she still felt a pang in her chest when she took in the sight of the sedated Bruce, his armor discarded and an IV in his arm, as well as an intraventricular catheter inside of his skull that ran from the side of his head into a monitor next to his IV bag.

She took a seat on a small stool next to his bed and felt her chest tighten the longer that she looked at him, squeezing the breath from her lungs and pushing down on her racing heart, but she couldn't look away. She didn't want to look at any of the monitors, didn't want to know what his pulse was or his blood pressure or his intracranial pressure, and she didn't want to know what it meant that the last of those was not falling.

What she wanted was to talk to him, to see him sit up and open his eyes and hear him tell her that this was over now, that he'd finally reached his limit and that he wasn't going to let the Joker bait him into killing himself. That he realized now that he'd given enough, sacrificed enough, and now that he meant something to someone, he was going to truly let Blake take over and keep himself out of the fray, for good.

But he was sedated, for his own good, and she didn't know when he would awaken. Maybe this time there would be lasting damage. Maybe he would wake up and not remember who he was.

Possibilities swam through Selina's head, each one more terrible than the last, and it was a long time before she noticed the tear that rolled down her left cheek. When she reached up and wiped it away with a gloved hand, another one replaced it, and then another rolled down from her other eye.

Old guilt and new dread filled her up, anxiety for the unknown and pain for what she did know - that when he did wake, he would wake to the deaths of hundreds of children that he would surely find a way to blame himself for. To a future that hung in the balance between a psychotic clown and a broken body that needed healing time that he surely wouldn't give.

And then, as she realized how deep her feelings ran for this man that lay before her, her flight response kicked in.

She had never been in love, so she didn't know if she was now. But she felt too much for him, far too much, to watch him be slowly destroyed before her eyes. But if she knew him, and by now she thought she did rather well, she knew he would wake up and disregard what was wrong with him, what he needed to do to heal, and would continue his war with the Joker until one of them was defeated.

And she wasn't sure she could stand to watch that.

Any other time, for anyone else, self-preservation would have kicked in, and she would have been gone without a second thought. It was what happened when she elected to lock him in Bane's sewer. It was what didn't happen when she saved him from the same man months later, atoning for what may have been the biggest regret of her life. And she knew it wouldn't happen this time, either.

She was in too deep. He had found a way to break through her defenses and found the heart that she had kept safely locked away for so long, and now she was suffering the consequences. She was hurting.

She reached forward and placed her hand over his. His skin was warm, and his pulse was strong, throbbing beneath her thumb. His face was peaceful, more so than she'd ever seen, and she hoped that at the very least, his mind was at as much peace as his face was right now.

* * *

Somewhere, deep in the shadows of his consciousness, Bruce was walking. Walking without a limp and without a brace on his leg. His back didn't ache. His head didn't hurt. If he had the time to check, he would have seen that he did not have his multitude of scars, either, but as it was, he didn't have the time, because he was walking through an elaborate, beautiful garden towards an equally gorgeous and floral archway off in the distance.

It felt like springtime. Birds chirped and the blue sky was brilliant, cloudless, and bright green grass crunched under his feet as he strode towards the arch. He glanced down and realized he was wearing a tux, but it seemed right, so he didn't question it. He kept walking, and the next time he looked towards the archway, he saw a woman standing underneath it.

She had dark hair that fell just beyond her shoulders, and she wore a white gown that trailed off into the grass about a foot behind her. It was a simple gown, A-line with capsleeves, and it was clearly one worn for a wedding .

Her veil was short, falling just above her waist, and her back was turned to him. He kept walking, his eyes fixed upon the woman, until he was just shy of standing under the archway himself. He was too unsure to move any further, but then the woman began to turn.

His eyes widened as she slowly brought herself around, and within seconds he found himself looking into the radiant eyes of Rachel Dawes.

She smiled at him warmly. "Hello, Bruce."

**A/N #2: Yeah, so, a few things - I feel bad about sidelining Blake during the fight, but it will be the last time he's sidelined, I promise. I have plans for him. Second, I hope the fight was okay, because I've never written a full fight scene like that before, and I know it could be better, but I figure practice is all that will change that. I expect the next chapter to be done by tomorrow, next day at the latest, because I'm starting it right away :) Anyway, let me know what you guys think! (Feel free to throw a rotten tomato or two at me for making an orphanage blow up lol, I deserve it)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Okay, giant chapter today, and it comes with a warning lol. There are two parts to this, and the second part is centered on the Joker and Harley, and it is extremely lemontastic. If that creeps you out, and you don't want to imagine the Joker and Harley getting down, just skip over it and end the chapter at the divider before the Joker comes in. But I wanted to write something that explained them a bit, went a little in depth to show their dynamic and how messed up (yet fascinating, to me anyway) that it is. It won't be a regular occurrance (unless you guys want it to be :p), because this is a BatCat fic first and foremost of course, so yeah, but I want everyone to be adequately warned and know what they're about to read. Don't want to give anyone mental pictures that they don't want. :) Big thanks to midnightwings96 for helping me with this chapter, you deserve cookies. Unfortunately, I don't have any :(. ANYWAY - thank you for all of the great reviews (including the yelling ones which were awesome haha), I love all of you :) **

Bruce blinked. "Rachel?"

She was exactly as he remembered her - beautiful, warm and looking at him with a knowing twinkle in her eye that never let him forget that she knew him better than he knew himself. The only thing that was odd about her was the wedding dress that she was wearing. "Don't look so surprised," she smiled.

"Well - I -" he looked around in confusion, "I'm a little..."

"Confused? You shouldn't be," she replied. "This is what your mind's creating."

"This is all in my head," he said, soaking in the warmth radiating from his childhood friend. "But you seem so... real."

"I'm as real as you believe me to be."

All right, this was just strange. "Am I dead?"

She shook her head. "No. But you and I both know you will be if you don't let the Batman go."

Familiar anger washed over him as memories of what had happened tonight rushed back to Bruce. Alfred's kidnapping. The orphanage. God, the orphanage. "I can't. Not when the Joker's still around. Not when he just slaughtered hundreds of children."

"Then what was the point of having John Blake inherit the Batcave? He's more than capable of taking over for you, Bruce. Train him. Teach him everything you know. Then let go."

"I tried to let go, Rachel. I really tried."

"I know. And you found someone to help you let go. You should let her."

Bruce paused. "Selina."

Rachel nodded. "She's perfect for you, you know. Nobody else could have pulled you out of your slump the way that she did."

"I was like that because -"

"Because of me."

Bruce paused and looked down. "For a lot of reasons."

"But I was the main one," Rachel smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Bruce. Alfred shouldn't have lied to you. He was only trying to help you."

Bruce inhaled. "I miss you. I still miss you every day."

"I know," she replied. "But it's time to move on. _Really_ move on."

He knew that she spoke the truth. But it didn't make the truth any easier to hear. "I thought I did."

Rachel shook her head. "Would I be standing here in a wedding dress if you had?"

Bruce cracked a tiny smile at this. "Why _are_ you wearing that, anyway?"

"Don't ask me," she chuckled. "I'm not in control of your mind. I'm just in it." She smiled at him. "But if I had to guess, I'd say that you've never stopped idealizing me. You put me on a pedestal a long time ago, and somehow you put me on an even higher one when I died. This was your dream for a long time. And a part of you still isn't done grieving the loss of that dream."

He may never have realized it if she hadn't said it, but he couldn't dispute her words. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you, Rachel."

"I know," she replied, taking a step towards him. "_God_, I know. But some things are out of our control. My death was one of them. And I've accepted that. But your fate is within your control. You can save yourself."

"He wants me. The orphanage would be just the beginning if I left now. I can't live with that kind of thing on my conscious."

"And how do you think your conscious would fare when your death does to Selina what mine did to you?"

That gave him immense pause. Bruce couldn't find any words to retort with.

"She loves you, Bruce. She might not know it yet, and who knows when she'll say the words, but she loves you."

Bruce raised his eyes to her. "I love her, too. I didn't think I could love anyone after..." he trailed off, and Rachel's nod assured him that she understood. "But I do."

Rachel gave him her biggest, warmest smile yet. "And I'm so glad you do. She can give you so much more than I ever could have. Your future's with her, Bruce. Not with Gotham."

"That's what I want."

"Then do it."

Somehow, when she said it, it sounded so simple. So easy. Like choosing what to wear in the morning. Choosing love over war, over misery. Over his addiction.

"And if you can't do it for you," Rachel added, "do it for me. And for them."

He heard footsteps behind him. When he turned, he saw his parents, just as he remembered them from his childhood, before a criminal stole them from him with two shots of a gun. They looked happy, glowing, like Rachel did. Proud.

He smiled at them, feeling fuller and lighter than he had possibly ever before, but when he turned back to look at Rachel, she was gone. He turned back to his parents, and they were gone too.

The garden around him dissolved, leaving him in darkness. Then he heard beeps. Beep after beep. The smell of disinfectant filled his nose, and his head was throbbing in time with his pulse.

He felt heavy, different, and he instantly knew there was a cocktail of drugs in his body. It was a feeling he hated, and his eyes were so heavy that it took an immense amount of strength to open them.

When he did, the bright light on the ceiling nearly blinded him. He blinked rapidly and looked to his left, then to his right. That was when he saw Selina, hunched over from the stool beside his bed, her arms cradling her head on the space of the bed next to his arm, apparently asleep. One of her hands was on his.

His dream, or whatever it had been, came flooding back to him. Every detail, every word that Rachel had spoken. The fight with the Joker came next, and then the orphanage.

He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, as much as he wanted to. With what little strength he had, he reached his left hand to his right arm and pulled out the IV to stop the sedating drugs from continuing to enter his system, then closed his eyes.

Maybe it was the residual feelings from his dream, or maybe it was the sight of seeing Selina so faithful at his bedside, despite her obvious physical discomfort, staying with him. But personally, he blamed both of those things as well as the drugs for the words that spilled from his lips as he slipped back into unconsciousness. "I love you, Selina."

* * *

Selina's head jolted up quick as lightning.

She looked down at Bruce's arm and noted his lack of an IV, as well as the slightly different position of his left arm.

She realized that she hadn't been dreaming. He did say those words that she'd just heard.

He also needed a new IV, because the one he'd ripped out had been delivering much more important medicine to him besides sedatives.

She slowly straightened, sore from her awkward position and exhausted from having slept here in this room every night for the last three days, and she felt her heart pound in her chest as she reluctantly left the room to find someone to replace the IV.

The last man to tell her that he loved her had been her father, and he hadn't said it once to her after her mother died. She expected to feel panic, to start descending into the type of overthinking that she'd done faithfully since finding Bruce lurking in her apartment in Italy. But she wasn't panicking, and her mind wasn't racing a mile a minute.

Her heart was beating rapidly, but otherwise, she could detect no sign of impending panic.

It could have been due to her immense relief that he'd woken up. Dr. Thompkins had said that was an important hurdle for him to jump, and that even if he only awoke for a moment or two, it was still an accomplishment.

Maybe later, when the relief wore off, she'd panic.

She found a nurse to replace the IV and then took her place at his bedside again. It was nearly eight in the morning, and she began flipping through the channels on the television mounted in the corner of the room, resigned to staying awake for the rest of the day. Bruce was back in a deep sleep, and Leslie would be arriving soon to check on him. She'd been spending many hours at the clinic monitoring him, leaving only to grab a decent night's sleep.

Selina had settled on some bad morning talk show to watch half heartedly when the door opened, and Alfred appeared with coffee and breakfast in tow.

Selina smiled. "Morning, Alfred."

"Good morning, Miss Kyle," he smiled back. This had become a daily thing - Alfred always showed up bright and early to spend most of his day here, and it was because of him that Selina hadn't starved to death or been forced to eat a vending machine diet.

"He woke up a few minutes ago," she said, taking her coffee from Alfred's hand as he pulled up a second stool next to hers.

Alfred's eyes widened and were instantly less grim. "Did he say anything?"

She paused. Of course he would ask this before anything else, because memory loss had been a huge concern. "... Yes. He said my name."

Alfred breathed a deep sigh of relief and let out some of the tension in his shoulders, letting them sag a bit. "Thank God. That's the first piece of good news since this happened."

Selina nodded, taking the bagel he offered her. "He ripped out his IV."

Alfred gave a short chuckle. "That's him."

Like clockwork, the door opened again, and Blake stepped inside the room. He dropped in twice a day usually, but spent most of his time out or in the Batcave (which had thankfully hadn't been touched by the blast that destroyed Wayne Manor near it) trying to track the Joker. He hadn't had much success yet.

"Still no change?" he asked resignedly.

"He woke up," Selina replied. "And spoke."

John's eyes brightened. He clearly hadn't been expecting any semblance of good news. "Good. That's - really good."

Then the door opened again, and Dr. Thompkins walked inside. "Looks like everyone beat me here today."

"He woke up," Selina quickly chirped as the doctor made her way to Bruce's bedside.

"One of the nurses called me and told me," Leslie smiled, eyes on the monitors. "She also said he spoke?" Selina nodded. "Very good news, indeed. His ICP is down, almost back to normal. Blood pressure's been stable since yesterday. Looks like he's turning a corner."

The relief was palpable around the room. But Leslie quickly added, "He may have quite a road in front of him, however - we won't know until he's fully awake. These kinds of injuries don't heal overnight. He could be fine, or he could need rehab. His memory could suffer for years. I just want all of you to be prepared."

They all nodded. She'd warned them of these things already, several times. But Selina held tight to her instinct that he had, in fact, turned a corner. Even if when he woke up, he'd been talking like a crazy man, proclaiming his love for her.

A few moments later, Leslie exited the room, followed by Alfred, who wanted a private word with his girlfriend. That left Selina and John alone, and silence prevailed for a few moments until John spoke.

"What did he say when he woke up?"

Selina took one last gulp of her coffee and set the cup down on the floor. "My name."

"That's all?"

She eyed him. "That's all."

Another moment passed before he spoke again. "You know that my offer still stands. I've been sleeping in the cave, and my apartment has a perfectly good guest room that you're welcome to use."

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving him here unprotected." She wouldn't leave anyway, even if security hadn't been a concern.

"I can stay here for a night," John said. "You can't be getting more than an hour or two of sleep at a time."

"I'm making it work."

"Well, if you change your mind," he muttered.

"Thanks."

Silence fell for another few moments. Selina stared absently at Bruce, while John's eyes fixed unseeingly upon the television. "I didn't expect to see this kind of devotion from you," John finally said.

"What did you expect?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of Bruce.

"Not this."

"I heard your little conversation with him in the cave," she said, now turning her eyes to the former detective. "So I'm not surprised."

"His track record -"

"Is none of your business," she interrupted. "And you never should have brought up Miranda Tate to him."

John didn't argue. She added, "He knows who I am. He's known since the moment he met me. And for some reason, he's okay with it. I'm sure he still wants to reform me, but he doesn't harp on it. He knows what he's gotten himself into. Unlike before, with her."

"Do you know what you've gotten yourself into?"

She grinned and glanced at him. "Don't worry your pretty little head about me."

John snorted. "I'm not. By the way, I found out who 'Harley Quinn' is."

Selina's eyes narrowed at the mention of the girl's name. She had a cut across her right cheek thanks to her, and several broken nails.

"I cross-referenced her name in several databases and ended up with a match in Arkham's records," John said. "But she wasn't a patient. Her name is Harleen Quinzel, and she was fresh out of med school and interning there as a psychiatrist last year. The Joker's the only patient she's recorded as having treated. She disappeared about the same time that he broke out of there during the riots."

Selina furrowed her brows. "Well, now we know who helped him." She then made a slightly disgusted face, wondering what woman in her right mind would want anything to do with a mass-murdering clown.

"Yeah well, that's about the only thing new we know," he said, disgruntled. "I can't get any kind of lead on either of them."

"I'm sure he'll make his presence known soon enough," she said, examining the nails that she'd broken in her fight with Harley. Next time she came face to face with the clown and his girlfriend, she'd make sure her bullets didn't miss.

* * *

By nightfall, Bruce's ICPs had dropped to Dr. Thompkins' satisfaction, and she cut off the supply of sedatives that had kept him unconscious for nearly four days. Selina stayed at his bedside, waiting for his eyes to open, her pulse picking up when his fingers began twitching.

It took quite a bit of twitching and stirring before he finally opened his eyes, however, and when he did, Selina's heart began pounding.

She placed her hand over Bruce's as his eyes looked from the ceiling to the walls, then at last to her. His eyes were cloudy from the meds and his entire ordeal, but they didn't move when they locked on hers.

"The orphanage," he rasped, voice strained from lack of use.

She nodded. What could she say? What words could possibly have any affect on what he was feeling? "There was nothing you could have done, you know that."

He blinked slowly and swallowed, inhaling deeply. "How many days has it been?"

"Four," she replied.

He reached his free hand to his head to push away some wayward hair from his eyes, but when he did, he felt the catheter that was inserted into his head. Confusion passed through his slightly widened eyes. "What the -"

"I wouldn't touch that," she said. "It's there to monitor the swelling in your brain."

He turned his eyes back to her and reluctantly let his hand fall back to the bed.

"It was bad, Bruce. Really bad."

"I... the last thing I remember is the window breaking," Bruce said, lowering his eyes as he thought back. "After he told me about the orphanage. I wanted to kill him."

"You aren't the only one," Selina replied. Then she tentatively added, "Do you remember... waking up today?"

His eyes locked with hers again. He nodded.

Selina opened her mouth to speak, but then the door opened, and the moment was over.

"Am I relieved to see you awake, Mr Wa - Lambert," Leslie smiled, quickly correcting herself. "How do you feel?"

He sighed and sunk back into the bed as the doctor made her way around his bed. "Like hell."

"Well, you should," she said, pulling out a small light and shining it in his eyes. "You're lucky to be able to speak. What's your name?"

He knew that she'd politely used his alias, but she obviously knew his secrets already. "Bruce Wayne."

She paused, then added, "What year is it?"

"2012."

"Who's the president?"

Her questions continued for a few moments, and after an examination, she employed the use of flash cards to test his short term memory. She was flabbergasted when he didn't show any signs of lingering effects from his injury.

"Well," she said, taking a seat on the corner edge of his bed, "you seem to have nine lives, Mr. Wayne. But I wouldn't push for a tenth, if I were you. You might have some problems with your memory still, and if you were to reinjure your brain - I'd bet my clinic that you wouldn't get lucky again."

Bruce nodded lightly. She continued, "You understand what I'm telling you right now."

"I do," he replied.

"I understand you have something of an apprentice, from what I've been able to deduce," she said. "Alfred keeps me in the dark on most things for my own good, but, I can put two and two together when I want to. I'd suggest handing over the reins to him and going back into retirement."

"Okay."

Leslie and Selina both blinked. He looked from one to the other before Selina said, "'Okay'?"

He shrugged lightly at her. "Yeah."

At Selina's bewildered look, Leslie got to her feet and said, "Well - I'll give you two time to talk. I want to keep you for a few more days for observation, Mr. Wayne."

He nodded. "Thank you, Doctor."

Leslie gave a tight smile and exited the room, closing the door behind her.

Selina looked at Bruce with narrowed eyes. "What?" he asked.

"You know what," Selina said. "What's going on?"

"I think she's right," Bruce said. "I obviously can't take what I used to. I want to train Blake, teach him everything I learned from the League of Shadows. And I want to stay in Gotham until the Joker's stopped. But I won't fight. And when it's over, we can leave. For good."

Selina's jaw was hanging unabashedly open. "Did I miss something? Were you hit on the head harder than I realized?"

He gave a small smile. "No. But you were right before. I have limits, and I have a lot more of them than I used to."

"Of course I was right," Selina said as if he'd just stated the most obvious truth in the world, "but I'm a little surprised to hear you wake up after four days saying this, especially after what happened. I expected the opposite."

His smile was small, but she recognized it as the kind he gave her when he knew something that she didn't and intended to keep it that way. "Things change."

She narrowed her eyes even further. "Did you have one of those 'near death experiences' where you see the white light but then have some epiphany and come back 'enlightened' or whatever?"

"Something like that," he replied, still smiling.

She thought such things were ridiculous, but who was she to argue? "Well, whatever brought this on, I hope you mean it."

"I do," he said, and she believed him.

"Okay."

There was silence only for a brief moment before there was a soft knock on the door, followed by Alfred peeking in. Selina got up and smiled at Bruce before turning and leaving, giving him and his father figure a moment that she knew they both needed.

She closed the door behind her and found Leslie at the nurse's desk a few feet away, at the center of this wing of the clinic, and the doctor gave Selina a warm smile. "You look better already, dear."

Selina smiled and leaned on the desk's counter, pushing her bangs behind her ears. Leslie was the only person in the world who had ever reminded Selina of her mother, and it was good to see her again. She was around the same age that Selina's mother would be now, and Selina thought she even bore a resemblance to what her mother might have looked like - kind dark eyes, short shoulder length brown hair that was fading to gray, hands weathered from years of caring for others. Her presence had been Selina's only source of calm the last few days, and she knew that the doctor was one of the extremely few people in the world she could always trust.

Leslie patted Selina's hand. "Thank you for everything, Leslie," Selina said sincerely.

"Oh, you don't have to thank me," Leslie smiled. "It's the least I can do when you made sure I didn't starve last year when things got bad." She paused, then added, "I'm glad you found somebody."

Selina let out a breathless chuckle. "He found me this time."

"Who found who?" came John Blake's voice from around a corner, and Selina rolled her eyes.

"My foot found your -"

"Selina," Leslie lightheartedly chuckled.

Selina grinned and turned around. "He's awake now. But Alfred's in there with him, so I'd wait until he comes out."

John's eyes were not entirely devoid of concern yet. "Is he -"

"He's shockingly well," Leslie answered in between scribbling on a chart.

"And if he's to be believed," Selina added, eyeing John, "your promotion's back in order."

Meanwhile, in Bruce's room, Alfred was silent, letting Bruce's tale of what had taken place while he slept sink in for a moment.

"It was so real," Bruce said. "As real talking to you right now." He paused, studying the thoughtful look on his former butler's face before adding, "What do you think?"

"I think," Alfred said, "that Rachel gave you some damn good advice, sir. Whether she was real or not."

The corners of Bruce's lips quirked as he slid an arm under the pillow that his head rested on. Alfred added, "Miss Kyle never left your side these last four days. If I hadn't brought her meals she may have starved."

Bruce's eyes softened at this. "When I woke up this morning - I don't know why, but it just sort of fell out of my mouth. I told her I loved her."

Alfred smiled. "I don't think words can fully express to you how happy it makes me to hear you say that, sir."

Bruce returned his warm smile. "I'm happy you've found someone, too."

Alfred glanced towards the room's window, through which Selina, Leslie and John could be seen talking. Bruce followed his gaze, then added, "I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna train Blake and let him take over. I mean it this time."

"I hope you do," Alfred replied. "And I hope you know that the orphanage wasn't your fault."

Bruce's eyes darkened and he let them stare into nothing before he said, "I was going to kill him. If I hadn't have passed out, I think I would have. I lost it, Alfred."

"Anyone else would have lost it nine years ago, sir, and let him fall to his death instead of stringing him up for the cops to find."

"After what he did, I wish I had."

* * *

"Ah, this is _much_ better than the last place," the Joker said as he and Harley entered their latest hideout, a penthouse overlooking the heart of Gotham.

Harley looked around, clearly impressed, and placed her bag down in the sitting room. "How did you get this place, Mr. J?"

"Well, believe it or not, despite the Dent Act and the whole nuke thing last year, the mob is still alive and well in Gotham," he said, shedding his purple suit jacket and throwing it on a couch. "And I still strike quite a bit of fear into the hearts of those idiots. One _little_ threat to one _little_ grandmother got us this."

Harley grinned and set off towards the master bedroom, as the Joker stared out the large wall-sized windows. The truth was, he didn't care where they stayed - he wasn't picky when it came to housing, but even he grew tired of the mold and stench of the last place. At least here he didn't fear contracting some rare bacterial illness from flipping a light switch.

But the last house had served its purpose, hadn't it? Everything had gone better than expected, all things considered. He hadn't meant to injure Batman so badly, though. He thought the guy could take a few crowbars to the head without nearly dropping dead, but apparently, he couldn't. He'd have to remember that in the future - what good would all of this trouble to bring Batman back be if he just croaked right away?

Which reminded him - he still needed to give Harley that lesson on knots.

It was one of the very few things she'd screwed up on since they teamed up last year, so he couldn't be too angry with her. After all, it wasn't entirely heartbreaking that the butler had been whisked to safety. The orphanage blowing up more than made up for the old man's escape.

He half-skipped back to the living room, grabbing a duffel bag that contained some of his goodies, and as he dug around for the rope that he knew was stashed in there somewhere, he couldn't help but tingle a little at the thought of the anguish Batman would feel at those poor children's fates. He would surely blame himself, the ridiculous hero/self-appointed god that he was, and he relished the thought of causing such angst within Gotham's supposed Dark Knight. Another feather in his cap of chaos.

Finally, he found the rope that he was looking for. He twirled the ends of it in circles through the air as he strolled to the bedroom, finding it empty and the bathroom door closed as he heard the sound of water running into the sink.

They'd been staying in random places the last three nights, mostly other abandoned buildings, and when he jumped on the huge king-sized bed in the center of the room, it felt like utter luxury.

"Oh, _yeah_... a guy could get used to this," he groaned as he sunk down into the fluffy pillows and expensive foreign sheets. His mind was drifting to what sort of food he might find in the kitchen when he heard the bathroom door open.

He sprung up into a sitting position and let his eyes fall over Harley's tank top and shorts-clad figure, as well as her hair that fell over her shoulders, still half-red, though the red was now more pinkish than anything. He'd have to get her a new costume, one that showed more skin. She'd be more distracting to potential enemies that way.

She looked at him almost shyly, running a brush through her hair, as he held up the ends of the rope and wiggled them while he raised his eyebrows. "I believe I promised you a rope tying lesson."

Something changed in her eyes, and excitement flashed in them along with a little bit of trepidation. He'd come to expect that by now.

He slid off the bed and stepped towards her, using his hand that wasn't holding the rope to grab the hairbrush out of her hand and toss it away. "On the bed, beautiful."

She visibly shuddered at the low tone of his voice, and he almost laughed in her face. He'd seen her be ruthless before, killing several of her former coworkers when she broke him out of Arkham, but she was still such a little girl in his eyes. Easily manipulated, easily played, easily aroused.

But only for him, of course.

She did as she was told and scampered up the bed. He followed, but not before kicking off his shoes and popping the bones in his neck.

"Against the bedpost," he said, and as she pushed herself back against the polished, expensive wood, he walked up the bed on his knees, stopping when he was straddling her waist.

"Now," he said, licking his bottom lip as he grabbed her left hand and placed it against one of the wooden beams, "pay attention. I'll only show you twice."

She nodded, watching as he looped the rope around her wrist and the wood. Once, twice, three times. He brought the other end around and did some fancy loopwork, his tongue out in concentration, and when the knot was made, he tightened it as hard as he could. She hissed with pain and he said, "See? Simple as that. Make sure you make the knot as tight as possible - the tighter the knot, the more they bleed when they struggle. And they _always_ struggle."

She nodded, taking a deep breath to deal with the discomfort, and he moved on to the other arm.

This one he managed to make even tighter than the other one, and she let out a little yelp when he was finished.

He turned to her in mock concern. "Oh, does that _hurt_, little Harley? Did I make it too tight? Would you like me to loosen them up a little bit?"

Before she could answer, he dropped his voice and moved in close to her as he said, "I'm not going to do that. You know why? You're powerless now. You're at my mercy. That's why good knots are important. See, for example -" He pulled out his trusty blade and held it in front of her face - "I could cut you to pieces right now if I wanted. Maybe give you a few scars to go with those freckles on your cheeks. _Sure_, you could try to kick me if you wanted, but we both know you won't do that. Will you?"

"Of course I wouldn't," she replied breathlessly. He looked down and watched her chest heave with deep breaths, noting the hardened nipples showing through the thin fabric of her top. She was getting off on this as much as he was.

"It's all about power," he said, bringing the knife down to her breasts, running the side of it down the space between them before flipping it on its sharp tip and running it down her top in one quick stroke, ripping it down the middle and exposing her ample chest to him.

She gasped as it happened, and her breaths came in harder after that. He raised his eyes to hers and raised an eyebrow. "You're enjoying this too much."

She grinned. "I enjoy _you_, Mr. J."

"Well," he said, placing his knife-free hand over her left breast and squeezing it, running his thumb along her erect nipple, "you _do_ have good taste."

Then he kissed her. She moaned into his mouth, straining her body against his, wrists struggling automatically against the rope in a vain attempt to find a way to touch him. He enjoyed her frustration, and the way that she winced at the pain of the rope, and especially of how she whimpered when he pulled his lips away from hers.

"Patience, my dear," he said, placing his knife between his teeth as he leaned back, unbuttoning his green vest and loosening his tie. "You'll get what you want soon enough."

She grinned as he pulled off his tie and went to work on the shirt underneath, rubbing her thighs together as she said, "Can you blame me? It's been a week since we've done this. It's been torture, watching you and not touching you."

He glanced up at her as he took his short off, looking away when she spoke again. "I know we've been busy, but... we can always make time for -"

He balled up his tie and shoved it into her mouth. "_Please_ tell me you weren't about to say '_us_'," he said with a roll of his eyes after spitting out his knife. It rolled on to the floor somewhere. She gagged and coughed, and he ignored her, unbuckling his belt.

Seconds later, when he was satisfactorily undressed, he returned to his position over her and said, "Now - where was I? _Oh_, that's right - you can't talk," he grinned. "I think I like you better like this."

She was still breathing hard, and he didn't think she noticed how she was just barely rocking her hips, searching for relief that wasn't there. He toyed with her further, bringing his mouth down on one of her nipples while his hand played with the other one. His tongue swirled and she arched into him, her moan muffled by the tie in her mouth, and again, her wrists rubbed painfully against the rope. He switched places with his hand, teasing her other breast with his mouth until she was writhing even more wildly, trying to find a part of him to rub against, but he made sure she couldn't find what she wanted.

Soon his lips trailed up her body, finding her neck and sucking at the most sensitive parts of it, and at this angle, she managed to rub herself against his left hip.

He pulled away and brought his face level with hers. "Like I said, _patience_," he scolded as he pulled out his tie from her mouth. As soon as it was gone, she threw herself forward and kissed him furiously.

He grabbed her by her neck and slammed her back against the bedpost. "You're being unusually stubborn," he noted, taking her face in his hand and holding it tight. "Remember who has the power."

She nodded quickly, and the hand that had slammed her against the bedpost suddenly darted down between them and slipped under her shorts. She gasped as he dipped a finger into her wetness and then dragged it over her swollen nub, his eyes never leaving hers as he said, "Is this what you want?"

"Oh, God," she groaned, her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

"What was that?" he said, suddenly stilling his fingers.

"Yes," she quickly gasped. "_Yes_, that's what I want. _Please_..."

He grinned. "That's right. _Beg_."

"Please, _please_..."

Then his fingers were moving again, and she was moaning again. Her whole body was rolling with each wave of pleasure he brought her, and he was unbearably hard himself, but he held himself together and enjoyed all of the little noises and nonsensical words that were slipping out of her mouth. These was the only times he enjoyed the sound of her voice.

He dipped back down and ran his tongue over her nipples once more, moving his fingers at top speed against her, and within seconds she was shuddering, quivering, moaning alarmingly loudly as her orgasm swept over her.

He waited a moment to withdraw his hand. When he did, he raised his eyes to find hers closed momentarily as she sucked in big, deep breaths. He took the opportunity to crawl halfway off the bed and retrieve his knife, which he used to cut her free.

Like he expected, her wrists were already bleeding. Stupid girl.

"_Tsk_ _tsk_ - didn't I tell you the more you struggle the more you bl-"

Suddenly her hand was around his throat. "On your back," she commanded as she threw him down on the bed with surprising strength.

His knife had been flung on the floor again, and he laughed as she held him down and straddled his hips. "That's more like it," he grinned when his laughter died.

She smiled and released his throat, placing her hands on his chest as she raised up her hips and brought herself down over his stiff length, taking it all inside of her in one smooth glide.

He wasn't the most vocal during this part of `sex, but she could decipher his pleasure in hisses and ragged breaths as she moved up and down on him, and a few times she dipped down and captured his lips with hers, something else he didn't do a lot of. He never kissed her outside of these encounters, and the ones he did give her were rare, usually given just to manipulate her or tease her, because he knew how much she craved his lips. It was all ironic, because he had initiated their first kiss in Arkham - though that was another manipulation, as well.

She wasn't completely stupid, she knew he was using her. But, as she rode him and as he squeezed her slightly bouncing breasts so hard it hurt, she clung to her naive belief that he did feel something for her, deep down, and that as long as she did as he wanted and pleased him, she would eventually win his love.

Her brief time in control was cut short when he rolled them over and then forced her down on her front, barking, "On your hands and knees."

She did as she was told, biting her lip when he entered her from behind. She grasped the sheets under her hands and moaned when he hit the spot within her that would bring her to the edge again, and when he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked it back to bring her back against his chest, a spasm of pleasure rippled through her.

He didn't let go of her hair as he moved in and out of her, increasingly rapid in his thrusts, pulling harder at her hair the closer he got. She held on to his own hair to keep from falling forward, craving his lips but never getting them, reaching her second climax when he pulled so hard he ripped out a handful of her two-colored hair.

He went soon after, and when he climaxed, he would always dig his fingers into whatever part of her body they were on at the moment so hard that she was always left with bright purple bruises. This time it was her left hipbone and the back of her neck, where his hand had fallen to after finally releasing her hair. She savored the warmth that filled her, the way his body shook against her, because she knew that in the next moment, he'd refuse to touch her until the next time he felt like having her.

He spent only a few seconds catching his breath before releasing his grip on her, and when he did, he dropped himself on the pillows behind them and closed his eyes.

He knew that she knew the drill by now. He made sure to ignore her after sex, because her attachment to him was already getting out of hand, and if he acknowledged her at all, he thought it might just be enough to convince her that he really did love her.

He loved no one, of course. And he'd never love her, even if she was the only girl in the world who found something in him worth loving. And she undoubtedly was the only one.

"Turn off the light, would you," he muttered, refusing to open his eyes to spare her even the smallest of glances.

A moment later, he felt her weight leave the bed, and the lights went out seconds later. When she slipped back into the bed beside him, he turned to face the wall, away from her. He knew what was coming next. The same thing he heard every night.

"Goodnight, Mr. J."

He rolled his eyes. The same thing, every night, in the same sickly-sweet voice that made him want to snap her neck. "Shut _up_."

She did as he said, of course. He began drifting off to sleep, Harley nowhere near his thoughts as dreams of chaos, blood, and bats filled his sleeping mind.


	15. Chapter 15

**I'm sorry this update took longer than usual - stupid real life kept getting in the way and distracting me lol. First of all, as always, THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed. I'm so excited and happy with how many of you guys like this and review faithfully every update, it's so fricking awesome. There's a few of you who stay anonymous but leave awesome long detailed feedback and it means a LOT to me (to one guest reviewer who signed as Ehecatl - that is the longest review I've ever gotten haha and it was so awesome I seriously squeaked). Gosh, I just love you guys. :D** **Anyway, I come bearing BatCat lemonade as a token of my appreciation for you guys dealing with the rather harsh Joker lemon I threw at you guys last week (lol). Sadly, it is more lemonade-y than a full lemon, but those are forthcoming, I assure those of you who like them. Oh yes, I'll never run out of ideas for those lol :D**

To the further shock of Dr. Thompkins, Bruce walked out of her clinic three days after waking with no memory impairment, no problems with his motor skills, nothing that would cause anyone to suspect that he'd just suffered a traumatic brain injury. But the lack of outside signs didn't make the condition any less serious, and she made sure he understood that before he left, and just in case he didn't, she made sure Selina and Alfred did.

Living arrangements hadn't been thought of until the day he was released, and after some last minute debating, Bruce and Selina agreed to stay in John's apartment for the time being. Under the guise of wanting to keep her close and more "secure", Alfred managed to convince Leslie to move in to his place, as well, earning the older man approving grins from John and Bruce as well as a good-natured eyeroll from Selina.

The Joker was staying unsettlingly silent, and the mayor was publicly blaming a gas leak for the explosion at the orphanage while privately blaming absolutely anything but the Joker. Commissioner Gordon, who had come to visit Bruce the day after he awoke, was on the verge of being fired for the fact that he and his men were chasing the Joker without approval while the orphanage blew, and any efforts of his to track the clown now had to be completely off the books.

Once Bruce was out of the woods medically, Selina noticed a change in John. He became angrier each day that passed, though he usually tried to hide it around her, and it was plain to see how devastated he was by the senseless tragedy.

But, in the end, she supposed that would be a good thing. He needed the anger if he was going to truly become the Batman.

It was early evening the day that Bruce was released when he and Selina arrived at Blake's apartment, where they began the odd and slightly awkward process of becoming roommates.

It was a short walk from the garage to his door, and an equally short one from the door to the guest room that sat across from John's bedroom and held a small dresser, queen size mattress, one lamp and little else. A bathroom sat at the end of the hallway, sandwiched between the two rooms, and Selina didn't look forward to sharing it with two men.

"Yeah, so..." John said awkwardly as the three of them stood in the hallway and looked into the guest bedroom. "I'm guessing you'll be sharing this room."

Bruce gave John a look that Selina pretended not to see, and John replied by muttering, "Just so you both know - the walls are thin and my room's right there."

Selina laughed and strolled into the room as she said, "Don't worry, we'll try not to defile your virgin ears."

She heard Blake sarcastically groan "_This is going to be fun,_" as she dropped her bag on the floor near the bed, and behind her, Bruce did the same. Blake headed back down the hall the way that they'd come, and Selina quickly walked past Bruce and closed the door to their new room.

He'd just straightened from setting his bag down when she grabbed him and kissed him with all of the pent-up emotions that she'd been dealing with for the last week, all of the things she didn't know how to say and didn't know if she _wanted_ to say quite yet. He held her close and returned her kiss, keeping it slow and cradling her face as they put the world on hold.

When they stopped to take a breath, Selina pulled away and looked him over, running her fingers along his very unshaven jaw and glancing at the bandage on the side of his head where the catheter had been, and just as she knew it would, her heart thumped when she brought her eyes up to his.

His words from three mornings ago hung in the air relentlessly now, the elephant in the room that they were both too apprehensive to acknowledge but knew the other was always thinking about. It would have been amusing if not for the tension it caused, but Selina was more concerned about a different sort of tension at the moment.

Bruce took her in his arms and brought his lips to hers, soon laying them down in the bed that she figured they may as well get acquainted with now, and though it was a rather firm and unyielding mattress, it felt almost like heaven to be this close to this man again, after the week they'd had.

It felt like an eternity had elapsed since they'd last touched each other, though it had only been eight days, but still, his lips on hers and his fingertips slipping under the hem of her shirt was enough to send all of the blood in her body pooling between her legs.

It was all hushed breaths and gentle touches as they removed the others' clothing, soft kisses and firm hands and the silent but suffocating need for each of them to feel one another's skin and escape for a precious few moments.

He knew the map of her body by heart now, and he knew how to make her shake and gasp with a few licks of his tongue or the soft circling of a few fingers, but he let them take their time, and she was grateful - she wanted this to last as long as possible, and pour as much of herself as she could into him without having to speak.

The struggle they were so used to was still present but was much more subdued, with Bruce gently moving her hands to her sides when she tried to overpower him, and Selina easing him down to his back instead of slamming him mercilessly when she eventually got her way and got on top.

She sighed when she brought herself down upon him, closing her eyes and not caring that he was watching her intently as she savored the feeling of him being inside of her, finding herself startled when she opened her eyes to find a small, sweet smile on his lips.

"What?"

He shook his head and rolled them over, kissing her and starting to move slowly in and out of her, his hands cradling her face once more. Not long ago, this would have been too much for her, but now this was the kind of thing she found herself craving from him. Some part of her brain registered that yes, they were, in fact, making love for the second time, but that was all right. She needed this, he needed this, and it was one of the few ways she knew how to express to him what she was feeling underneath it all.

Their releases came close together and were all the more powerful for how slowly they'd been built up, and when Bruce's came to a great, shuddering end, he collapsed on top of her, with his face in the crook of her neck.

His chest was heaving with gasping but even breaths, while she struggled to breathe being under his considerable weight. He seemed to realize this after a moment and shifted to the side, and she took in a deep breath in relief as she turned to face him.

He maneuvered his arm underneath her and wrapped it around her, his hand resting on her back as he smiled contentedly at her. Contentment looked good on him, she had to admit. And it still made her tingle to know that she was the one who'd caused it.

"Still gonna kick the habit?" she asked, running her fingers down the planes of his chest.

"You don't have to ask me five times a day," he gently chided her. "I'm not going to change my mind."

She desperately wanted to believe him, but she still had her doubts. "When do you start Blake's training?"

"Today," Bruce replied, brushing a piece of hair from her eyes.

"Did you clear that with Leslie?"

"It's training, Selina," Bruce said. "I'll be fine."

Selina narrowed her eyes but kept silent, becoming more annoyed when a smile crossed his lips and he said, "You know, you'll make a great mother one day."

Her eyes widened. She could honestly say that nobody had ever said those words to her before in her life. "You _must_ have suffered brain damage."

"I'm serious," he chuckled. "Alfred told me how you stayed at my bedside and never left the whole time I was out."

"Of course he did, sentimental old man..."

Bruce merely kept smiling. "Have you ever thought about having kids?"

The conversation was quickly getting highly uncomfortable. "Only in the sense of how much I don't want to," she answered truthfully.

Which reminded her, she was due for a new birth control shot in the next few weeks. She made a mental note to pay Leslie a visit before she became accidentally fertile again.

"But if you were in a stable, long term relationship - what about then?"

"You mean what about with you," she deduced.

"Yes."

She paused, at loss for what to say for a moment. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

"Calm down, Selina," Bruce grinned. "I'm only curious."

"Look, I've never looked at myself as being the maternal type, especially when you factor in my 'profession'." She paused, carefully choosing her words. "If I did ever have a baby, it would deserve a lot more and a lot better than what I could give."

"I disagree," Bruce said quietly.

She paused and gave him a look before muttering, "Just drop it."

She could tell he didn't want to, but he gave a short nod anyway. Then Selina sighed and rolled away from him, gracefully rising from the bed and starting the process of redressing. Bruce eventually did the same, and when they emerged from the room, Selina was still replaying Bruce's words and still feeling extremely uneasy about them when Blake greeted them at the end of the hallway with slightly raised eyebrows. "We were supposed to leave an hour ago."

Selina glanced down at the watch on her wrist and was surprised to learn that an hour had indeed passed since they'd arrived. Time truly flew when you were having fun and awkward conversations.

"Let's go," Bruce said, and Selina could tell he was fighting a smile. She'd have to try to keep from making him late to such important work in the future, but today, the man had unarguably deserved the brief distraction.

* * *

A short time later, Selina sat in Blake's car as she watched the two men stand on the edge of the grounds of the burned down orphanage that had borne the names of Bruce's parents and housed hundreds of children before being blown to bits by the Joker, consumed in a conversation that she knew was extremely private. She kept an eye out and waited patiently as the two men shared a moment near the ashes that brought out an almost equal amount of anger inside of them.

"You need the anger," Bruce said, eyes hidden under sunglasses and the visor of his Gotham Knights cap as he stood shoulder to shoulder with John. Both pairs of eyes were fixed forward on the wreckage of the building as he continued, "You need it, but you have to control it. It can either strengthen you or it can destroy you. And you're the only one who can choose."

"I want him dead," John said bluntly.

"So do I, and I have for a lot longer than you have."

"But you saved him when you had the chance to let him die," John pointed out.

"You can't ever forget what separates us from them," Bruce said, turning his eyes to the younger man. "I almost have a couple of times."

"Maybe you should have," Blake muttered.

"Listen to me," Bruce said suddenly sternly, and Blake met his eyes. "You won't last a day in that suit if you let yourself become what we're fighting against. We aren't executioners."

"I know that," John replied, sounding somewhat irritated. "But at what cost do we keep our conscience clear?"

"It's not about conscience," Bruce said. "It's about giving people something to believe in. It's about justice over vengeance and chaos. If one of us went and found the Joker right now and killed him, no matter how much he deserves it, it would still be wrong. And we wouldn't stand for anything anymore."

He gave Blake a moment to mull over his words before he spoke again. "I have to know that you can do this, John. That you can control your anger. Channel it, use it to become stronger."

Blake nodded without hesitation. "I won't become a killer. Even though I might want to sometimes."

Bruce nodded back, then after a brief pause, added, "To clarify, that doesn't mean you have to _save_ your enemies. I saved the Joker because I threw him off of a building, his blood would have been on my hands. But I didn't save Ra's al Ghul, because he chose his fate."

Blake nodded. "That gives me a little more leeway."

"You know what the symbol means and why people believe in it," Bruce said. "Sometimes the situation will seem so horrible, so unspeakable, that you think it changes everything and changes the rules. But it doesn't. It never does. When the Joker told me about this," his eyes flickered towards the rubble, "I snapped. I've never wanted to kill someone so badly before in my life."

John watched Bruce, carefully studying him as he spoke. Bruce continued, "If I hadn't passed out, I don't know what I would have done."

"She would have stopped you," John said, gesturing towards his car.

"I don't know if she could have," Bruce said. "I heard her voice but I didn't register any words. All I saw was just blind rage. You can't make the same mistake, John."

"I can't promise that. If after everything you've learned and been through you can still lose it -"

"Learn from my mistakes," Bruce gently interrupted. "There's a lot of them to learn from."

Blake nodded, and Bruce could tell that he wasn't entirely confident in his abilities to hold himself back should something else terrible happen. But Bruce had faith in him.

"Let's go," Blake said after a moment of silence, and Bruce followed him back to the car with a nod.

* * *

John Blake's first training session in the Batcave began with an argument.

"No."

"I didn't ask you for your permission."

"John, you can't just -"

"Yes I can."

Bruce stopped and pressed his lips in a thin line. "The Joker will know."

"He doesn't have to," John said, continuing the process of putting on the Batsuit as he pulled on the spiked armored sleeves. "You can teach to me to move like you and sound like you. He'll think he got the fight that he wanted and you won't have to throw a single punch."

"It could work," Selina chimed in, sauntering towards the two men in the middle of the cave. She carefully sidestepped a puddle and added, "But you'll have to add some height to his boots to make the Joker think he's you."

Bruce was outnumbered, to his dismay, and he was grasping at reasons why this wouldn't work and why it shouldn't even be considered. "This could end badly. Very badly."

John threw up a hand in slight exasperation and said, "How much worse could it make things? We're dealing with a psychotic mass murderer who'll want me dead no matter who he thinks I am as long as I'm fighting him."

"It's personal with me," Bruce said. "It always has been with him. Everything he's done is to drag me back into hell with him."

"What alternatives do we have?" John challenged. "Besides you changing your mind and getting back into the suit?"

Bruce wasn't one to cling to a losing battle, and this one had been lost before it began. There really were no other choices. He ran a hand through his hair and then crossed his arms. After a long pause that let everyone know that he still wasn't happy about this, Bruce muttered, "You really will have to add a few inches to your boots."

John half-rolled his eyes.

Selina took to sitting at the computers, scanning for news about the Joker or his girlfriend as Bruce and John began the physical aspect of training. John wore the full Batsuit, minus the mask, to learn how to properly maneuver in it while Bruce forced him to dive head-first into the martial-arts training that had taken him months to master himself, but they didn't have the luxury of time, so Bruce could only hope that John could handle the accelerated classes.

John knew how to fight, and he came to the table with a decent amount of knowledge already gained, but he knew nothing of the methods that Bruce employed when he fought. He also had to officially give up his dependence on firearms, but that was the easy part. The suit was heavy and the cape, while completely necessary, felt like it weighed as much as the suit itself, and moving in it was exhausting on it's own. After two hours of continuously ending up flat on his back or on his face, anger and frustration was starting to take its toll on John.

Interestingly, that anger was what managed to empower John to finally push his body to do what it needed to do to succeed, and after peeling himself off the ground for what felt like the hundredth time, he managed to avoid Bruce's attack and forced the older man down to the ground with one firm but non-threatening arm over his throat.

Selina stood from her futile searches on the computer and peered down at them, making sure Bruce hadn't been hurt. She saw a grin cross Bruce's lips as Blake let go of him and helped him up. "All right. Selina, can I get your assistance for a minute?" Bruce called out.

They'd spoken briefly about this earlier, so Selina nodded and cracked her knuckles. John looked puzzled but Bruce distracted him with some long, detailed explanation of a procedure he was about to show him while Selina slipped behind John's line of sight.

She watched as Bruce explained and taught by example, waiting until the younger man got the concept somewhat before she fulfilled her role. He caught on quicker than before, so she flipped her hair back and walked towards the men as they dodged one another's punches, waiting until John managed to grab both of Bruce's arms and began to subdue him before she casually closed in and hooked her arm around John's neck and cut off his oxygen supply from behind before kicking his feet out from under him.

Selina then tossed John to the ground, who quickly sputtered, "What - what the-"

"Always be aware of your surroundings," Bruce said, getting to his feet and helping John back up. "And of who's in them."

"I wasn't expecting her to -"

"Exactly," Bruce said with a nod. "You weren't expecting it."

John took a deep breath and sighed. Selina smiled sweetly at the frustrated young man and danced off, waiting for the next time his guard was let down enough for her to strike.

She found it amusing, and every time she would attack, she would use a different angle, and she would catch him off guard every time. Once, he could have sworn she swooped down on him from the cave's ceiling somewhere, and he started to become angry again.

Like last time, the anger helped him, making his movements sharper and more precise. The last time Selina tried to attack, it was from behind him again, and this time, he brought Bruce to his knees and then spun around and caught Selina's arm in midair, and he kicked her feet from under _her_ this time, sending her to the ground.

"Good one," Selina said, wincing slightly at a jagged rock that her back had landed painfully on. John extended a hand and she took it, flipping her hair back once more as she looked at Bruce and added, "I'll be getting back to my pointless searching now, if you don't mind."

Pointless was putting it mildly - while John seemed to make more progress the angrier he got, Selina's anger didn't make any leads on the Joker any easier to come by. Databases were of no help, nor were police reports, or anything else she could pull up on a computer. She was about to throw up her hands and give up when she realized the sounds of masculine grunts and the swishing of John's cape had ceased in favor of a conversation happening only a few feet behind her.

She heard both men audibly take huge gulps of water before John said, "What am I supposed to say?"

"Anything, it doesn't matter," Bruce said. She listened in closer.

"... Okay, but - so, I just lower my voice, or -"

"Yeah, lower it and rasp," Bruce said, "use your throat."

Selina smiled and suddenly knew she was about to be highly entertained, but she kept her eyes on the computer screens as if the lack of information there was enthralling.

"All right," John said, but he didn't say anything else.

"Look - just listen," Bruce said before lowering his voice and saying in his signature gravelly Batman voice, "_Where's the Joker_?"

Selina bit her lip. That voice did things to her that made her wish they weren't in the company of the former detective at the moment.

"_Where's the Joker_," John repeated in a half-hearted growl, and Selina clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

"Use your throat," Bruce reminded him. "_Where's the Joker_?"

Why didn't she have him talk to her like that all the time?

"_Where's the Joker_?" This time John's attempt wasn't as atrocious, but it still sounded nothing like Bruce.

"Still need to put more of your throat into it," Bruce said before taking another loud gulp of water.

John tried once more, but this time his voice broke halfway through and Selina couldn't keep her laugh from escaping her lips. Both men turned their eyes to her as she spun around in her chair and continued laughing as she said, "As entertaining as this is - with all of the cutting edge technology down here, I'm sure it won't be hard to throw together a device that can make his voice sound like yours, Bruce."

"That's an option," Bruce admitted as Selina ross and walked towards him, "but it would be better if he can do it on his own."

Selina shrugged and then bent down as she approached Bruce, bringing her lips to his ear as she said in a low, seductive whisper, "Keep using that voice and I'll throw you down right here and ride you, I don't care who's around."

She pulled away enough for Bruce to give her a rather amused and heated look, and then she leaned back in and added, "And I'll even put my throat into it if you'd like."

She let her lips linger on his ear long enough to send shivers down his spine before pulling away once more and giving him a lusty, pointed look before walking off. His eyes followed her and became focused on the way her hips shifted as she walked until he remembered John was sitting next to him and that their break was over.

He glanced over at the younger man, who was looking at him completely poker-faced. Bruce smiled.

"I'm not even going to ask," John muttered.

"Wouldn't have answered anyway," Bruce replied. "Let's get back to work."

**A/N #2: picturing Bruce and John fight each other with John in the Batsuit made me happier than it should have. Dear God, make the slashy thoughts go away... ahhhh! Shutting up now. :p**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: As always, I love you all. Thank you everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted. It's like Christmas morning every time I get a new review in my inbox :D to the anon and guest reviewers, thank for faithfully reviewing & reading, I love you! And to ehecatl, we're on the same wavelength :) and you gave me an idea, so super duper thanks :D *gives gigantic bear hug to everyone* Ah, ok, now that the love-fest is out of the way... Oh, one last thing. For this chapter (and the next) I'm going to ask everyone to pretend with me that a presidential debate would take place in the spring/summer, where this story is set, instead of strictly fall. Everyone ok with that? Awesome! :D**

They all knew it was coming. The Joker's uncharacteristic silence was grating on the nerves of all three of the new roommates, and by the time another week and a half had passed, they all knew running up before his next move.

Bruce spent most of his waking hours training Blake, and the younger man was sporting a black eye and multiple bruises as a result. None of the injuries Bruce inflicted were intentional, of course, but Blake had insisted he not hold back. When he got hit, he got angry, and anger helped focus him, so Bruce ignored his displeasure of injuring one of the few friends he had in the world on an almost daily basis.

Blake had taken leave from his day job tending bar downtown at Bruce's insistence as well as his assurance that he'd pay for their living expenses while Blake was training. There simply wasn't enough time in the day for both, and it was so time and energy consuming that Selina was the only one who noticed that Bruce's headaches hadn't returned since his injury - as of yet, anyway. Either way, she was as grateful as Bruce was at their absence.

Selina continued to assist Bruce in the training sessions as well as track the Joker, and what few leads she did manage to get had all fallen apart. The atmosphere in the Batcave (where they spent all of their non-sleeping hours) was becoming more tense and glum with every passing day.

On the eleventh evening of training and quickly deteriorating moods, Selina brought Bruce a bottle of water and sat next to him on the large rock that he was perched on during a break and asked, "How's the rookie coming along?"

He gulped down a third of the water and stared off into the cave's distance as he spoke. "If I could handpick anyone to train, it would be him," he said, "but I can't teach him everything he needs to know in this short amount of time. I just can't."

"He's getting better at copying your mannerisms," Selina pointed out. "The way you move and throw punches in a fight."

"Even if he tricks the Joker," Bruce said grimly, "I don't want to send him out like this."

"You didn't plan on training him when you left the cave to him," Selina said. "You knew he wouldn't be at the same level that you are. Not at first, anyway."

"I also didn't know that he'd be fighting the Joker."

Selina sighed. Bruce's odd respect or fear or whatever it was that he held towards the Joker never failed to unsettle her. She understood where it came from, though.

Then he turned towards her and said, "As much as I hate to say this, you need to go with him when we do get a lead."

She paused and wondered if her ears had failed her. If she was being honest, she never planned to stay on the sidelines. But to hear these words come out of Bruce's mouth when she was so accustomed to him being a bit overly protective - it was a shock.

He added, "The Joker would expect you to fight with me. If you weren't there with Blake he'd automatically he suspicious. And Blake's going to need the help."

"So," Selina said, "while I'm off watching his back, what will you be doing?"

"Listening and watching from here."

"And guiding?" she presumed. He nodded, and she added, "It's going to drive you crazy sitting here in a chair and missing the action."

"It's not as if I have a choice," Bruce muttered, looking down to the ground.

"You do have a choice," Selina said. "You just happened to choose right this time."

"I won't be thinking that if Blake gets himself killed because he isn't ready."

"That's what I'm here for, right?" Selina said with a small grin, despite the urge to be resentful of her new role as a glorified babysitter. "And anyway, give the kid some credit. He's a lot better than I honestly expected him to be." After a pause, she added, "Don't tell him I said that."

Bruce chuckled. "Your secret's safe with me. And I never said he wasn't good. I just don't know if he can take down a team of armed men on his own quite yet."

"At least he won't have to fight off any SWAT teams," Selina noted. "I'm sure the police won't mind having the Batman back."

"The mayor won't be happy," Bruce said. "A war between Batman and the Joker is probably his worst nightmare."

"Hopefully it won't be a war," Selina said, turning her eyes to Bruce. "The next time I fire a bullet at the clown, I won't miss."

Bruce grinned at her but lowered his voice into a disapproving tone as he said, "You know my no gun rule still stands."

"Didn't stop me last time," Selina grinned back. Then she added suggestively, "Are you going to punish me for breaking your rules?"

She saw the amused flash in his eyes but he otherwise kept a straight face. "I'm serious, Selina."

"So am I," she retorted. "But I'm not your protege. I don't fall under your rules. So, I guess I'll just have to keep breaking them and suffering your consequences."

One last curve of her lips and then she got up and headed back to the computers, unaware that Blake had stepped back into the cave after concluding his own break. Bruce nodded at him and then gestured towards Selina, and with a slight grimace, Blake walked towards her.

She was scanning police reports when suddenly she felt breath on her ear and a deep, gravelly voice spoke, "_Finding any leads_?"

Her eyes widened a bit and she grinned as she swiveled her chair around and purred, "Didn't I tell you what I was going to do if you used that voice again..."

Her voice trailed off as she found herself nearly nose to nose with Blake and not Bruce, and with very narrowed eyes she looked across the cave to Bruce, who was now holding back laughter. Blake backed off quickly as Selina informed Bruce, "You're _so_ paying for this later."

"I'm counting on it," Bruce replied, and for a moment, Blake looked as if he was going to object to his guest room being further defiled, but he seemed to resign himself to the inevitable and closed his mouth.

"I find it hard to believe that you've become a master impersonator in a week," Selina said to Blake.

"I haven't," Blake admitted, reaching under the neck of the Batsuit and pulling out a tiny, flat black device.

"I took your suggestion," Bruce said to Selina, standing and walking towards them. "It sits on his vocal cords and helps make the voice a little more believable. As you can see, it passed the test."

"I'd say so," Selina said with a raised eyebrow. Bruce grinned at her and then something on the computer screens caught his eye. He stepped past her and she gave Blake one more withering look before they both turned their attentions to the screens along with Bruce.

On the screen that was streaming live local news, images of two suit-clad men took up two halves of the screen and was headlined by the words "Gotham gears up to host Presidential debate".

"That's tonight, right?" Selina asked, and Bruce nodded.

"Where's it being held at?" Bruce asked nobody in particular, and then the news anchor answered his question - the Gotham State University campus downtown.

"That's where Harley Quinn got her degree," John pointed out. "Think the Joker might try something there tonight? It'd be a hell of way to go public."

"Security's going to be tighter than you can imagine there after what happened at the orphanage," Selina said.

"He's gotten around tight security before," Bruce interjected. "He'll want something big after the orphanage. Especially if he's going to let himself be seen this time."

"But with Secret Service swarming the place?" Selina said, shaking her head slightly. The Joker couldn't be _that_ good.

"He has ways," Bruce muttered darkly before sitting down and immediately going to work hacking into the university's security cameras. Selina and Blake watched silently as he took maybe two minutes to accomplish the actual hacking, and from there all three pairs of eyes carefully scanned the multiple cameras' images as Bruce combed through them.

Eventually, one lone blonde pigtail came into view in the corner of one camera that sat in a hallway lined with faculty offices. Bruce switched to a camera that followed the pigtail in question down the hallway and after quite a bit of switching and chasing, a full image of Harley Quinn climbing into the ventilation system in the ceiling appeared.

Blake cursed and turned away, hurriedly walking to retrieve his cowl while Selina turned her eyes to Bruce.

His eyes met hers and she said quietly, "Don't worry."

He laughed humorlessly. "Yeah."

He got to his feet and she quickly pulled his face to hers and kissed him. It was a brief kiss but it had to be, and when she pulled away, she could see clearly in Bruce's eyes how much he hated this.

"Trust me," she said. He nodded.

Then her hands fell from his face and she left him at the computers, heading towards another section of the cave that contained her new catsuit.

Along with backup clips of ammunition for the two guns that Bruce wanted so much for her to leave behind, she stashed the whip that she'd snatched from Harley into her belt and figured that it might come in handy. Once the suit was complete she slipped on the mask that she'd grown much more fond of since her initial doubts about it, and stepped back into the main area of the cave.

Blake was already sitting in the new Tumbler that Fox had delivered a few days ago, waiting for her, and Bruce approached her as Blake opened the hatch for her.

"Here's your comm unit," he said, placing a small earpiece in her hand. "I'll be watching."

She gave him another kiss before placing the piece inside of her ear and climbing inside the Tumbler. Bruce looked like he wanted to either punch somebody or throw up as Blake started up the engine and the hood closed over them.

She glanced over at Blake and eyed him in annoyance as she said, "Why exactly do _you_ get to drive?"

He adjusted the armor over his neck and glanced at her as he said in what really was a convincing take on Bruce's voice, even if it was technologically altered, "I'm Batman."

She laughed despite herself as he hit the throttle and they propelled out out of the cave and on to the dirt road. "Don't let the big boy belt go to your head too fast."

Blake was about to retort when Bruce's voice in their ear interrupted him. "Remember what we talked about , John."

"Yeah."

Selina narrowed her eyes slightly but didn't say anything, fixing her eyes on the road as it flew past them. Tonight would be pivotal, undoubtedly, with the Batman returning to the streets and the Joker likely showing his face at last as well. The sun was setting and the presidential debate was scheduled to begin an hour from then, and the only citizens who knew anything was up were the ones who were catching glimpses of the Tumbler as it sped downtown.

Selina couldn't wait for the fight to begin. The sooner it started, the sooner it would be over, and the sooner she could leave Gotham for good.

* * *

Thirty minutes until the debate began, the Tumbler was stashed safely out of sight and Selina and John were moving carefully among the shadows around the college's campus. Security was indeed insane, and Bruce was watching cameras as well as satellite images to help guide them. At one point, he managed to set off an alarm from within the college's security system that he hacked and caused enough of a distraction for Selina and Blake to slip into the school through a back door at the lowest level.

"All right, I'm assuming they're both in the ventilation system at this point because there's sign of either of them," Bruce said in their ears as they walked through empty hallways. "And the vents happen to intersect over the auditorium on the second floor where the debate's being held."

"Perfect," Selina muttered, and they came up on a corner. Blake barreled forward and several things happened at once - a slightly terrified-sounding voice exclaimed "_He's here_!", Blake got a barrel of a gun to his face, and the attackers were revealed to be two scared-looking Secret Service agents.

Blake disarmed and took out the first agent while Selina kicked the gun out of the second one's hand and pinned him to the wall with an arm over his throat and her stiletto-bladed boot to his gut. "What the hell was _that_ for?" Selina demanded as Blake tossed the unconscious agent against the the wall.

"I - I -"

She removed her heel and threw him to Blake.

"He has my wife!" the agent said hysterically when he was pinned to the wall a second time, this time by Blake. "He has my wife..."

"Who, the Joker?" Blake asked.

The agent nodded. "He took someone from each of us, I don't know how he did it, but he did - _oh God_ -"

"Calm down," Blake said, "What did he want from you?"

"Just to keep you out," the agent said, appearing to be on the verge of hyperventilating. "That's all he told us, to keep the Batman out and he'd let them all go."

Blake nodded and then knocked the agent out with a blow to his head. He placed him against the wall with the other agent and turned to Selina.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you to clear your corners?" she snapped.

"I'd say we have a bigger problem than that right now, don't we?" Blake retorted.

"Both of you stop, and go where I tell you," Bruce said over the comm units. "It's gonna take awhile getting past the entire Secret Service."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the large auditorium on the second floor, the President and his opponent had just stepped to the podiums that sat on the stage that had been set up for them to spar on, and the audience had settled in comfortably while the networks were busy checking the lights and their camera angles. The debate's moderator, a forty-something man with dark hair that was coiffed perfectly for the national news-anchor chair that he coveted so dearly as a senior reporter, sat behind his small desk in front of the stage and flipped through his pages of pre-approved questions to ask the candidates as his assistant brought him a bottle of water.

"Here you go, Mr. James," the young girl smiled as he took the drink from her.

"Thanks," he smiled, taking a deep breath.

"Don't be nervous," the girl said, patting his shoulder. "You're gonna do great."

"Well, for both of our sakes, I hope you're right," he smiled, and then a voice carried through his earpiece. _On in two_.

He sighed. Two minutes until he moderated his first debate, which was essentially his interview for the anchor chair. It was so close that he could taste it.

_On in one._

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He had this in the bag.

_Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two_...

He smiled and nodded to the camera.

"Live from the Richard J. Booker Auditorium at the University of Gotham State in the heart of Gotham City, welcome to the first of three debates between President George Collins and his challenger, Senator Mark McCullough. My name is Alexander James and I'm -"

"_Dead_!"

The sound of a gunshot rang through the hushed auditorium, and a bullet ripped through the middle of the moderator's forehead.

As screams filled the air, the Joker came crashing through the ceiling from his place in the air vents, a smoking gun in his hand as he slid down a rope and landed on his feet in front of the stage. Armed men in his employ scattered out from the audience and guarded all exits while Secret Service agents gaped and rushed towards the candidates on the stage with guns drawn. Harley slid down the rope next and landed next to the Joker with a grin.

"Everybody _calm_ down," the Joker yelled, waving his gun in the air. "No reason to panic - hey," he said, his eyes falling on the Secret Service agents' drawn weapons, "Keep pointing those at me and I'll show you the detonator in my pocket that'll blow all your families to high heaven."

The agents' eyes widened even further and they lowered their guns slowly, to the candidates' shock. The Joker's men quickly closed in on them and disarmed them, and then Harley took the President by the neck and held a gun to his head as one of the goons did the same to the other candidate.

"That's better," the Joker said as an eerie hush fell over the audience. He buttoned his purple suit jacket and strolled to the moderator's desk, combing his greasy green hair back with his fingers, whistling as he approached the dead reporter.

"Alright, excuse me, Mister Moderator-_Man_," he said as he kicked the dead man out of the chair, "but it's my turn to ask the questions."

Then he settled into the chair and straightened his suit as he licked his lips and gave a wink to Harley, who grinned back. Then he peered into the camera that hung directly over the desk and said, "My _fellow_ Americans - pardon the interruption, but I thought it was time we get a change from the usual lies and empty promises and had a, _uh_, honest talk with our honorable leaders. And we all know that a gun to the head brings out the honesty even in liars like these guys. _Oh_, and as you can see - I'm not dead."

Then he giggled.

From his place behind the computers at the Batcave, Bruce (as well as all of the world) watched in horror as the scene unfolded. Backup from the GCPD were on their way to the scene but the cops already there had been overpowered by the Joker's men and even by the desperate Secret Service.

"You guys almost there?" Bruce asked tentatively over comm.

"Almost," a breathless Selina replied, sounding like she was fighting several men at once. Blake didn't answer.

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes wide and transfixed on the screen. He'd never felt more useless in his life, and his fear for the two people he had sent into this mess was choking him, but he had no choice other than to sit back and watch.

He watched as the Joker grinned and then leaned back in his chair. His red lips stretched and revealed stained yellow teeth as he exclaimed, "Now - on with _the_ _show_!"


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: So this story is about to start pushing 300 reviews - do you guys have any idea how happy that makes me? Omg... thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing, and I still love you if you just read and don't review too, haha :) anyway, I'm not feeling as rambly as usual, so without further ado...**

"You _know_," the Joker sighed as he flipped through the pre-approved questions for the candidates, "these are the _same old_ questions that get asked every year and get the _same old_ answers every time." He tossed the papers to the floor and leaned into the microphone on the desk. "I think it's time for some honesty." He glanced behind him at the terrified audience and added, "Don't you all agree? Aren't you tired of the way these _clowns_ are running our lives?"

When the audience only stared forward in horror, he rolled his eyes and stood up, casually waving his gun for emphasis as he said, "Well, even if _you_ sheep aren't, _I_ am. And I'm gonna do something about it."

He jumped on the stage and scanned the faces of the subdued candidates and their neutered security details, clearing his throat before he said, "Now, I'm sure everyone here thinks I'm some kind of monster, but I'm not - I'm really not. These guys -" he waved his gun at the president and his opponent - "these guys are the real monsters. Take _dear old_ President Collins here. What did he do when Gotham was under siege last year? What did he do when some freak in a gas mask tried to blow the whole city to smithereens? What's that?" he held a hand to his ear, "Oh - _nothing_? Why am I not surprised?"

"I don't negotiate with terrorists," the President growled through gritted teeth. "That includes you."

"_Me_?" the Joker asked with feigned shock as he pointed a finger to himself. "_Me_, a terrorist? Ha! Ha! Ha!"

His laughs filled the auditorium. "I'm not a terrorist! No, no, no, I'm simply... the chaos that makes everything you do pointless. I'm the reason why schemers like the two of you -" she gestured towards the two opponents again - "always fail and always will. I am... the _future_."

"The future?" Mark McCullough repeated incredulously. "You're scum who won't leave this auditorium alive."

The Joker's eyes widened comically as he stepped closer to McCullough. "Big words from a little man. But you're supposed to be the 'tough on crime' guy, aren't you? _Right_... well," the Joker said as he placed the tip of his gun against the man's forehead, "how tough are you feeling now?"

McCullough didn't flinch. "I've been a Marine for thirty years. I'm not afraid of you. You're nothing but a freak in some makeup and a cheap suit."

The Joker rolled his eyes and said in a tortured tone, "Why does _everybody_ assume the suit's cheap? I paid an arm and a leg for this thing. Literally."

He then shot McCullough in his right arm and right leg, and the audience screamed. The Joker then strolled about the stage leisurely, turning his eyes to the terrified crowd as he said, "Alright, listen, people - settle down," he held out his hands towards the crowd, "Look, I'm not the monster here - these guys are. At least I'm honest about what I do, unlike these characters. Don't you people know how many soldiers have been killed in the wars we keep getting dragged into? Or how many poor families are starving today because the president would rather spend money flying giant cameras to Mars instead of feeding his own people?"

He held up his hands in exasperation and then put them on his hips. "I mean - _I_ don't care who starves or how many soldiers die, either. It's the last thing I'm gonna waste my time worrying about. And that's what I have in common with these two lovely gentlemen who are fighting for your votes. The difference is, I don't lie about it. "

"What do you _want_?" the President finally asked, causing Harley to tighten her arm around his neck and shove the barrel of her gun deeper into his temple.

"Oh, I already got what I want," the Joker shrugged, turning around and facing Collins. "I proved to the people how flimsy and easily manipulated your world is, Mr. President. I mean, your own Secret Service didn't even _try_ to put up a fight. Don't you find that a little... _disturbing_? Especially considering the fact that," he pulled out a detonator from his coat pocket and held it out, "I'm just going to kill their families anyway?"

Then the hole in the ceiling that the Joker had blasted through expanded with another explosion, and a caped black mass descended to directly on top of the Joker, causing complete chaos to finally break out. A slender cat-like figure swung down from the ceiling on a cable towards Harley, and the crack of a whip slapped the gun out of the blonde pigtailed girl's hand and enabled the President to overpower her while the Joker lost his hold on the detonator and the Batman knocked him off the stage with a blow to his neck.

The Joker's men began firing indiscriminately and the screams reached their peak, but Secret Service finally began fighting back at that point, spurred by the raining of bullets and the detonator being taken from the Joker's hand.

"Leave! _Go_!" Blake yelled to the petrified audience as he jumped off the stage to deal with the Joker while Selina distracted Harley so that the President and the bleeding McCullough could escape while their security fought the Joker's men.

Harley's strength in fighting was her zealotry as well as her gymnastics training, but after only a few moments of fighting Selina managed to catch Harley's foot with her whip when she tried to backflip her way to safety. Harley thudded to her back on the floor and Selina quickly pinned her there with her boot over her neck.

"Hello again," Selina said with a roll of her eyes as she peered down at the girl. "You don't look quite as ridiculous now that you don't have Kool-Aid hair."

Meanwhile, the Joker was laughing as he fought Blake, using one of his goons as a human shield as he cackled, "How's the head? I was fearing the worst for awhile there."

Blake punched the goon in the neck and he crumpled, but then from behind another one whacked him across the back of his head with an automatic rifle, and he fell to his knees. The Joker took advantage and released the blade in the tip of his shoe and sliced across Blake's jaw as he kicked him.

Along with causing horrid, searing pain, this made Blake angry, and with a great surge he threw his head back and knocked out the man behind him with the force of the back of his skull crashing into the man's forehead, and then he sent the Joker to the ground next with a single punch to the side of his face.

Selina grimaced, and Bruce in her ear muttered, "Someone with a head injury would not have just done that."

"No kidding," she muttered, earning an odd look from Harley's straining face that Selina responded to by digging her heel harder into the girl's neck.

"Impressive," the Joker sputtered as Blake held him to the floor, "especially for someone who took a crowbar to the head multiple times less than two weeks ago."

"Maybe I'm stronger than you think I am," Blake's altered voice replied.

"Maybe," the Joker said, "and maybe I'm smarter than you think I am."

"Where are the hostages?" Blake growled. Around them the audience had mostly made it out to safety, and the Joker's men had fallen in large numbers thanks to both the Secret Service and the newly arrived Gotham police. However, movement from above had caught Selina's attention.

"Oh, just a little warehouse in D.C.," the Joker said casually, "full of C4 that'll blow them into next Sunday in the next... _oh_... five minutes, with or without the detonator."

Blake picked him up slightly to shove him back into the floor. "Tell me where they are!"

"I _told_ you, a warehouse in D.C.," the Joker shrugged, fighting laughter. "Even I don't know the address - I thought it would be more fun this way. Speaking of which, you know what else is fun?" There was the briefest pause before he answered his own question. "This."

Another explosion from the already-battered ceiling directly above them, and the Joker slipped away as the falling debris crashed over Blake. He caught a cable that had been thrown to him and began being lifted swiftly into the open cavity when Selina kicked Harley towards the closest cop and quickly withdrew her gun and began firing at the escaping, and hysterically laughing, Joker.

She was about to fire her last attempt before he yelled out, "_Payback's a bitch_!" and fired his own round of bullets at her.

She watched as her final shot struck him in his left calf, but then there was a searing, breathtaking, blinding pain in her right shoulder, and she couldn't stop the foreign-sounding scream that came out of her mouth.

All she heard was screaming - Bruce was yelling frantically in her ear and Harley was also screaming as she was being dragged away by cops, and once the initial shock of being shot had worn off, Selina forced air into her lungs and looked down at her bleeding shoulder.

"I'm fine," she finally told Bruce over comm, panting, "it's fine. It hit me between plates, mid-shoulder... probably just a flesh wound. Where's -"

Blake appeared, answering her question, and she could see his eyes widen underneath the mask when he saw the blood dripping from her shoulder.

"Dammit, let's go," Blake muttered, helping her up and leading her out of the destroyed auditorium.

They hadn't cleared the room yet when Bruce's grim voice spoke into their ears. "There was an explosion in D.C. one and a half minutes ago."

"Do you have a visual on the Joker?" Blake asked.

"No," Bruce growled. "Selina?"

"I'm fine," she insisted.

"John?" Bruce asked in a hard voice.

"I..." Blake looked at Selina's wound as he got them out of the building, "it's bleeding heavily."

"Take her directly to the clinic," Bruce said. "I'm going to keep looking for him and if I get a confirmed visual I'm going to take the Bat and find him myself."

Blake set Selina inside the Tumbler and she protested, "Bruce! You can't do that!"

"Get her to the clinic now," Bruce repeated to Blake in a dark voice.

In seconds they were speeding down the road and Selina was still yelling at Bruce over comm, though he was ignoring her and would only speak if he was asking how she was doing. Each time she'd roll her her eyes and say that she was fine and that he was overreacting, and that she could even probably just stitch herself up.

However, by the time they got to the clinic, she was feeling lightheaded from the blood loss, and she did her best to hide this as Leslie rushed her to the back of the building.

It ended up being not nearly as bad as it could have been - the bullet went straight through and didn't cause any terrible damage, but it hurt like hell and Selina didn't even want to think about how it would hinder her fighting abilities.

Blake was getting his face stitched up in the same room that Selina was resting in when Bruce arrived, bearing changes of clothes for both of them and making a beeline for Selina while wearing an angry and nauseous expression.

He hadn't been able to track the Joker, and neither had the cops. The warehouse in Washington, D.C. had indeed blown up, and they were waiting on causality reports. Senator McCullough had been shot twice, though he was in stable condition. The Joker had, very likely, figured out that Blake was not Bruce, and when coupled with Selina's shooting, the night had been, overall, a disaster. The only redeeming factors were the President's lack of injury and Harley Quinn's arrest.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Bruce blinked and met Selina's eyes. He'd been staring at her bandaged shoulder and was so lost in his anger that he'd nearly forgotten where he was. "Selina, if that bullet had hit just a few inches closer to your chest, you could have been-"

"Of course I could have been, and we both knew that going into this," she pointed out.

Blake was sitting on the edge of the exam table getting stitched up by Leslie, and they were both trying to pretend that they were invisible for Bruce and Selina's sake. Bruce turned his eyes to the floor angrily, and Selina knew it wasn't her that he was angry with. If she knew him at all, and she thought that she rather did by now, she knew that the person he was most angry with was himself.

It was written on his face that he blamed himself for every terrible thing that happened tonight, and she knew that he didn't mean it disparagingly towards her or Blake. Whatever mistakes they'd made, he didn't hold them against either of them - he held it against himself.

"The important thing is," Selina said quietly, "the President got out unharmed and we got Harley Quinn."

"She won't know anything," Bruce said grimly. "He wouldn't have left her there if she had any remotely important information. He probably would have killed her before he let that happen."

Selina sighed. "Are you going to be in this kind of mood all night? Because I'm going to get a headache along with having to deal with this," she motioned to her shoulder.

Bruce kept his eyes hard and his jaw clenched for the duration of the night, and by the time they returned home to Blake's apartment, Selina retreated quickly to the guest room alone. Her hope was that by the time Bruce joined her, he would have decompressed and regrouped some, but as soon as she closed the bedroom door behind her it flew open and he stormed inside the room.

She lost her breath as he grabbed her - firmly but gently and careful not to touch her injured shoulder - and kissed her hard. Her good arm rose to wrap around his neck and his arms enclosed almost painfully tight around her, and it took her a moment to recover from her surprise before she realized that he was trembling a little bit.

She pulled away and he jerked forward, unwilling to let her go for even a moment, but she managed to breathe out a quick, "Bruce?"

He responded by kissing her again, and his trembling grew to distinct shaking before he tore his lips away and leaned his forehead against hers.

She looked up and found his eyes shut tightly, and she wondered if he was fighting tears. The thought made a familiar pain in her heart return. "Bruce..."

"When..." he drew in a breath and tried again, "when I saw the bullet hit you and I heard you scream, I -"

"I'm fine," she said gently, hands coming up to rest on either side of his face.

"I know, but I... you _know_ what my first thought was," he said, barely above a whisper. His thumb brushed her cheek and his eyes were open again, telling her everything that she needed to know without him having to say a word.

"I know," she replied, staring back into his eyes for as long as the pain in her chest would allow her to. It was starting to almost surpass the terrible pain in her shoulder.

"Selina," he said, beckoning her to meet his eyes once more, "I know what I said when I woke up in the clinic the first time."

Her heart started to speed up.

"And I meant it."

"Bruce..." she whispered, but a finger over her lips hushed her.

"You don't have to say it back. I just need you to know," he paused and placed one of her long front pieces of hair behind her ear, "how much I love you."

That pain in her chest, the one that had been bothering her for so long, always peaking at their most charged moments and sometimes getting so bad that she wondered at times if there was actually something physically wrong with her, suddenly completely dissolved. It was as if it had never existed, or as if it had been in her imagination all along. Her heart was racing, but it was completely pain-free, and _full_.

She didn't say anything as she stared into his eyes, and he didn't expect her to. Instead, he watched her eyes as they changed and became softer than he'd ever seen before, and he let her bring his lips back to hers in a kiss that gave him an answer that he was satisfied with for now.

Soon they were on the bed, locked inside their own little private world, lying in one another's arms and letting time stand still for a few moments. He held on to her more tightly than usual, and sometimes she could hardly breathe from the pressure of his arms around her, but she didn't protest, or say a word.

But, she could only take so much of it before she wanted more.

"Selina," Bruce said breathlessly as she started working on his belt, "I know you're in pain, and -"

"And you're the best painkiller I could ask for," she replied swiftly.

It was true, and when he placed her on her back and gently brought himself on top of her, his lips and hands trailing over her body seemed to work alongside the painkillers already swirling around her system and rendered the pain in her shoulder almost obsolete.

He was more gentle than he'd ever been - he seemed to outdo himself every time, as of late - and the only time that he had to be firm with her was when his fingers were moving between her legs and she let out an uncharacteristically loud moan. His free hand clamped down over her mouth and he smiled down at her as he whispered, "Blake's in the next room, Selina."

He removed his hand from her mouth and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, like I care," she groaned, grabbing his hair and pulling him down to capture his lips. She wasn't sure what exactly he then did with his wrist, but whatever it was made her moan again, into his mouth this time.

He quickly kissed her to muffle the sound and laughed again, and she gave his hair a yank. "It's your fault."

He kissed her neck and murmured, "I thought you were going to make me pay for the way I tricked you earlier today."

She did vaguely remember saying something along those lines earlier, but right now, she couldn't care less. "Don't worry, you'll pay eventually."

He grinned and then brought his lips back to hers as his hand picked up the pace, and within seconds she was arching into him and quaking all over while his other hand covered her unusually loud mouth one more time.

She sank into the bed and kissed his hand gently before he pulled it away from her lips, then wrapped her still-shaking legs around his waist, inviting him in. He didn't waste any time, thrusting inside of her and hissing as he did, moving slowly until he opened his eyes and realized that Selina was on the verge of falling asleep.

He couldn't blame her - she'd had a long day, and an orgasm on top of painkillers for a gunshot wound would knock anybody out - but he knew a change of pace would wake her up, so he pulled out of her and quickly slammed back in as deeply as he could.

She cursed and her eyes flew open, but then she started laughing with him and started matching the movement of his hips. "Why don't you wake me up like that every morning?"

"I can if you want me to," he grunted, his eyes already starting to roll into the back of his head as she more than made up for almost dozing off.

When his turn for release came and he dissolved into a useless pile of limbs half-on top of her, Selina let her eyes close once more and settled into his arms as he moved to her side.

She rested her head on his chest and almost instantly fell asleep. Bruce held her close and debated what to do - he hadn't allowed himself to fall asleep in the same bed as her once since he deliriously half-attacked her in his sleep, in what felt like a lifetime ago in Italy. He'd been sleeping on floors, chairs and couches ever since then, and she thought he was being ridiculously paranoid about it, but he hadn't budged on the matter until now.

The truth was, he couldn't let her go tonight. He _had_ to spend the night holding her, nightmares be damned, and there was simply no arguing with himself this time. Not after today.

Bruce rolled her closer into his chest and pulled the sheets over them, closing his eyes and letting the feel of their heartbeats pounding gently together lull him to sleep, hoping he wouldn't regret it in the morning.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: As always, big huge giant enormous hugs and thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, alerted - this story broke 300 reviews! Woo hoo! *throws party* :D I want everyone to know that we are entering the homestretch here, though, and I'm excited and a little sad at the same time. But there will be a sequel, so I'm not too sad, and the best is yet to come as far as the upcoming chapters to this story :D I'm thinking there will be about six more chapters or so. We'll have to see. And a big special thanks to midnightwings96 for helping me hammer out some plot details, you are utterly amazing (seriously, people, she is :D). Ok, end of rambling... :)**

It was a combination of bright rays of morning light filtering in through the blinds and sharp, stinging pain in Selina's shoulder that awoke her the next morning. She blinked against the light and winced at the pain, her brain foggy but coming to life enough to notice the pair of arms that were cradling her against a hard chest and the heartbeat thudding underneath her ear.

She felt stiff and the pain was growing steadily the longer she was awake, but waking up in Bruce's arms for the first time was enough to soften the sting. She looked up at his peacefully slumbering face and could hardly believe that he'd finally allowed himself to share a bed with her, after all of the time that he'd spent refusing to sleep anywhere near her personal space. But then, he'd also confessed the depth of his love to her, and after that, this didn't seem quite so shocking.

Her heart was still free of pain, and in fact, besides her injuries, she felt great. There was still residual anger from watching the Joker get away, and a lot of frustration with how it was starting to feel like the fight would go on forever, but those thoughts stayed far in the background as she studied her lover's peaceful face.

The moment didn't last long, due to Bruce's stirring and slow opening of his eyes. Selina smiled and placed her chin on the curve of his shoulder as she said softly, "Morning."

He returned her smile and said in a voice still thick with sleep, "Morning."

"I didn't expect to wake up in your arms," she said.

He shook his head slightly. "I didn't expect you to, either."

"I'm not complaining," she grinned. "I'm assuming the nightmares stayed away last night?"

He nodded, placing his hand over the one of hers that was on his chest. "How's the shoulder?"

"Hurts like hell," she shrugged. "Like you'd expect."

His eyes fell to her shoulder and he said, "I need to change your bandage."

"You don't have to do that," she shrugged slightly. "I can do it."

Bruce gave her a look and then gently eased himself, and Selina, up into a sitting position. He smoothed down some short hairs of hers that were sticking up in a way that he found to be extremely cute and gave her a light kiss before saying, "I know you can, but I want to."

Then he got out of the bed, and she didn't take her eyes off of him as he dressed. He gave her one last look before he disappeared out into the hallway, and she allowed herself to wince at the pain in her shoulder once more now that she was alone.

He made a pit stop in the bathroom before making his way out to the living room, where he'd absentmindedly left the dressings that Leslie had sent them home with, and when he entered the small room, he found Blake immersing himself in push-ups on the floor.

He grabbed the box from an end table and nodded when Blake looked up and noticed his presence. The younger man drew in a deep breath and sat up on his knees, panting as he leaned back against the couch behind him. The cut that ran above his jaw had been stitched expertly the day before and wasn't expected to scar, but it still looked as angry as Blake himself did.

"Early morning?" Bruce ventured.

Blake shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

Bruce's mind flickered to the night before but he quickly decided that other things besides Selina's loudness would have been what kept him up. Still, he did feel badly about it. Then Blake added, "I feel like an idiot."

Bruce shook his head. "You shouldn't."

"I didn't even manage to fool him for five minutes," Blake said flatly.

"That's five minutes more than I thought you would," Bruce answered honestly. When Blake's expression became slightly offended, Bruce quickly added, "I don't mean it like that. The Joker knows me, very well, and I knew it would only be a matter of time. It's going to take me months to give you the same training I've had - that's just reality."

"So now what?"

Bruce looked down at the small box in his hands and said, "Now I have to go change a bandage. And then we get back to work."

He knew Blake would continue to blame and punish himself, because that's exactly what Bruce would do if he were in his shoes. He knew everything the younger man was feeling, the anger that was inside of him that stemmed from his past as much as from day to day mistakes, and the fire inside that would keep him going despite it all, because in the end, he was rather sure he couldn't have possibly chosen someone more similar to himself to pick up Batman's mantle.

When he returned to the guest room, he found Selina still in bed, patiently waiting for him and still very undressed, raising an eyebrow to him as he sat beside her and opened the box in his hands. "I might enjoy you playing nurse."

He smirked and gently brought his fingers to her wound, peeling off the old bandage. "This is going to hurt."

He placed some solution to a cotton ball and she clenched her jaw as he pressed it to her exposed wound, but he was quick about it, and a moment later he was pressing a clean bandage to her shoulder.

"I hope his leg hurts as bad as this does," she said as Bruce taped the bandage securely over her skin.

"The more it hurts, the more he likes it," Bruce muttered, gathering up the used gauze.

When he moved to get up, Selina grabbed him by his face and pulled him close for a kiss. The sheet that was covering her came down a little bit, and he groaned as she pressed herself against him and deepened the kiss. "We have to leave soon," Bruce grinned, pulling away from her.

"Already?" she pouted. "But I haven't even had breakfast."

He grinned at the devilish look in her eyes and said, "You're insatiable."

"You make me this way," she replied, bringing her lips to his once more.

He gave in for a moment, and just before their kiss got to the point where he knew he wouldn't be able to get out of the bed for the foreseeable future, he pulled away again. "Sorry."

She rolled her eyes and slumped down against the pillows. "Sometimes I really miss Italy."

This brought him pause, and though his legs were swung over the bed, Bruce lingered there. "Yeah, I do too."

"Can I ask you something?"

Bruce turned back to Selina and nodded. She propped her head up on her hand and said, "When this is all over... what happens then?"

He lowered himself down some, so that his face was level with hers and his head was propped up on his hand like hers was. "What would you like to happen?"

"Well, does my island idea still interest you?"

He smiled and brushed her cheek with his thumb. "Selina, I'd take you to Siberia if that's where you wanted to go. As long as you're there, it doesn't matter to me where I am."

Once upon a time, not so long ago, she would have mocked him for saying such a thing and would have told him he was being idiotic. But it was hard to believe now, however, after all they'd been through, that she'd once been like that to him. Even now, a part of her was locked away from him, but she could feel it giving way a little more each day. Like a key was turning slowly, very slowly, but inching ever closer to unlocking its goal. "You'll look good with a tan."

"You'll look good in nothing but bikinis," he grinned.

"There won't be much point in wearing those when you'll just be taking them off," she retorted, playing with a few overlong pieces of his hair. It was in an awkward stage of being grown out, a bit uneven and curling in odd places, but she loved the way it was starting to fall into his eyes and how she had more to hold on to in the back now.

"No, but I'll enjoy it," he said, bringing his lips to hers.

She subtly managed to slip further out of the sheet and slipped one of her legs between his as she pulled him close once more, and this time he could barely force himself to pull away.

"Selina," he groaned, trying to put space between them and failing.

"Fine," she sighed, looking into his eyes as her leg rubbed against the increasing hardness in his jeans, "I'll compromise with you."

"Compromise?" he repeated, placing a hand over her leg but not moving it away.

"I'll settle for you helping me take a shower," she said. "After all, I've been shot - I don't think I can wash my hair properly. Do you want me to take the chance of having leftover conditioner in my hair all day?"

He grinned and let his eyes fall over her increasingly exposed body before saying, "Go on and get in the shower. I'll be there in a minute."

"Of course you will," she smiled before kissing him once more on the lips and bounding out of bed as if she hadn't been shot the day before.

"Don't - _God_, Selina, put something on before you go out there," Bruce half-laughed as she started opening the door.

"Oh, right," she rolled her eyes sarcastically, grabbing one of Bruce's shirts from the dresser and slipping it on. "Does Virgin Ears also have virgin eyes?"

"Well, I think last night you made sure his ears aren't virginal anymore," Bruce chuckled.

She grinned and opened the door. "Oops."

Bruce shook his head, though the grin didn't leave his lips.

* * *

They tried to be quick in the shower, and they thought that they'd been successful, but when they both emerged dressed and ready for the day underneath their wet hair, they found a sour-looking Blake sitting in the living room waiting.

He didn't say anything, however, so Selina took the opportunity to taunt him. "Geez, you'd think _you_ were the one who got shot yesterday, judging by that look on your face."

"Don't start," he muttered, staring forward.

Bruce walked reluctantly to the kitchen, and Selina took a seat on the couch next to Blake and smiled sweetly at him. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"Just because I'm forced to be aware of every time you 'get laid' doesn't mean it goes both ways," he retorted, not missing a beat.

"So, that long?" she said, crinkling her nose. "That's a shame. Maybe you should take a night off one of these days and do something about that dry spell."

"I'm not in a dr-" he sighed and closed his mouth, then muttered, "Just shut up."

She shrugged and replied, "All I'm saying is, you're giving Bruce a run for his money in the brooding department. And it doesn't look as good on you."

Blake rolled his eyes and stood, grabbing his keys off an end table and heading for the door. "I'll be in the car."

Bruce reappeared and gave Selina a puzzled look. She shrugged. "I'm only trying to help."

Bruce rolled his eyes as Selina joined him on his way out the door. "I'm starting to wonder if this is what having siblings would have been like."

* * *

Instead of heading straight to the Batcave, they ended up taking a detour to the MCU after a phone call from Commissioner Gordon about his newest detainee and her unwillingness to talk.

"Of course she won't say a word to any of them," Selina had said while Bruce was still on the phone with Gordon. "She's a head case. And no man will be able to get anything out of her, she's too loyal to the Joker."

Bruce glanced back at her when she'd said this and said, "Do you have any suggestions?"

"I'd say let me talk to her, woman to woman, but I doubt anyone would let me step foot in MCU unless I've got a pair of cuffs on me."

Gordon had overheard her words, and Bruce gave a simple, "All right," before hanging up. He turned to the driving Blake and said, "Head to MCU."

Selina narrowed her eyes. "Seriously?"

"She's about to be transferred to federal holding," Bruce said. "Gordon wants something out of her before that happens."

She raised an eyebrow and said, "Well, this should be fun."

* * *

Harley was still in her red and black harlequin costume, and her pigtails were still sitting high atop her head, though they were extremely frayed by now, and as she sat alone in a dimly lit holding room, she drummed her fingers nervously on the table before her. The handcuffs weren't terribly tight on her small wrists, but after having worn them for more than twelve hours, they were starting to irritate her, though not nearly as much as the unending flashbacks of her beloved Joker escaping from the college auditorium without so much as a second thought towards her.

A clinking sound at the door roused Harley from her morose thoughts, and though she expected her armed escorts to federal holding to walk through the door, she was surprised to find a familiar woman in a dark suit and mask appear.

"They must be really crazy to think I'll talk to you," Harley muttered, resting her face on her palm.

"Well, you'd know all about crazy, wouldn't you?" Selina replied, approaching the table.

Harley looked unimpressed. "The whole mask and costume thing isn't necessary. I know you're Selina Kyle. Batman's girlfriend."

"I'm sure you do know that," Selina smiled, perching on the edge of the table. "I only wore this to be nice. Nobody likes to be the only one who didn't get the memo that they missed the costume party."

Selina raised an eyebrow at Harley's attire, and the blonde girl sighed. "I'm not going to talk to you."

"That's fine," Selina shrugged. "I don't expect you to know anything worth talking about."

Harley's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well... seeing as the Joker left you behind to get taken into custody and didn't even try to help you get away, I can only assume that means you're even more worthless to us than you are to him."

Harley's mouth opened but she sputtered for a moment before anything came out. "I am not worthless to him! You don't know anything about him, or me!"

"Yes, I do," Selina replied, feigning a sadness underneath her voice. "It's pretty clear to everyone what's going between you and him. Everyone besides you, of course, and that's usually how it works."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harley grumbled.

"Alright, so let me ask you a few questions," Selina said, slipping into the chair opposite Harley. "How did it all start between you and him?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"I think you'll find you prefer telling me over the Feds that are gonna get their hands on you within the hour."

Harley paused and crossed her arms. "Fine."

Selina leaned back some and motioned for her to go on.

"It was a rose. It started with a rose that he put in my office at Arkham. I still don't know how he did it. But that's how it started."

"A rose," Selina repeated. "Romantic."

"It was," Harley said quietly, eyes on the table.

"And did he pursue you?"

She nodded. Then a smile crept on her face. "Yeah. You know, I know what everyone must think of us. And of me. But I don't care, because nobody knows Mr. J like I know him. You all think he's a monster, and he's not. He's just..."

"Insane?" Selina ventured. "Cruel? A murdering psychopath?"

"No!" Harley exclaimed. "No, he's not! You know why he does what he does? Why he can't stop? It's because of _him_, it's because of _Batman_. If it wasn't for Batman, we'd be happy together. I know we would."

Selina thought for a moment and then said, "And yet, Batman and I are happy together despite the Joker. So why doesn't the same thing apply to the two of you? Shouldn't love always conquer all, or something like that?" When Harley said nothing and simply glowered, Selina said, "You wouldn't know the answer to that because he doesn't love you. He never has, and he never will. He's only strung you along for as long as he has because you were useful, and now obviously he thinks you've served your purpose, and he's done with you."

Harley shook her head and said, "You don't know anything about us."

"He left you behind, Harley," Selina said, leaning closer over the table. "He left you behind after you held a gun to the President's head. Do you understand what that means? Once they put you away, you'll never see the light of day again."

Harley stared at Selina blankly, and Selina thought she might just be getting somewhere, finally. "The government sees you as a terrorist. You might think you do what you do for love, but they don't care what your motivation is. All they care about are the people you murdered breaking the Joker out of Arkham and everything else you've done since then."

She could see the realization dawn in Harley's blue eyes. To further shock the girl into reality, Selina added, "He _knows_ all of this. He _knows_ what will happen to you. And he _still_ left you."

Selina let her words sink in for a moment, and as tears welled up in Harley's eyes, she almost felt badly for the girl. Almost.

"I can't promise you anything," Selina said, breaking the silence, "but after the orphanage and what happened last night, the authorities are desperate to find and catch the Joker. If you can help them find him, and play your cards right, you might be able to make a deal."

"You mean, like, immunity, or -?"

"I don't know," Selina shrugged. "Maybe. I'm not here to negotiate a deal. All I want to know is what kind of information you have. If you have something that can lead us to him, I'd suggest you tell me."

Harley sniffed and wiped some stray tears from her eyes, her breath straining as she continued to stare at the table. "He left me," she said softly.

Selina paused and studied the girl. Her shoulders were sagged in defeat and the pain that was etched on her face was real, regardless of the shattered delusion that it had resulted from. "Yeah, he did. And you can either let him get the best of you, or you can pull yourself together and take your life back."

Harley gave another great sniff and closed her eyes, taking a moment before she spoke again. When she did, her voice was unexpectedly hard. "I do know something. I overheard him telling one of his guys something I wasn't supposed to know about yet."

It was far more than Selina had hoped for. "Okay."

"Tell them that I'll tell you on two conditions," Harley said. "I want immunity, and I want to be there when you take him down."

"I don't think -"

"I want to help take him down," Harley interrupted, her watery eyes swimming in anger.

"I think trust might be a bit of an issue," Selina pointed out.

"Those are my conditions," Harley said, placing her hands down on the table.

Selina paused, then nodded. "I'll tell them."

Harley nodded as Selina got up and headed for the door, and as soon as the older woman was gone, Harley let herself fully dissolve into tears.

Outside of the one way mirror stood only Gordon, Bruce and Blake, and as soon as Selina joined them, Gordon said, "As always, it looks like I don't have much of a choice."

"You've been forced to make worse deals before," Bruce said, watching her through the glass.

"Well, it's out of my hands," Gordon said. "I need to make a phone call."

The Commissioner stepped away to place a call to somebody much more powerful than him, and Selina glanced at the two men to her left who were dressed normally, to her envy, and she muttered, "Next time one of you can dress up and play therapist to the nutjob."

Bruce smirked and ran his eyes over her body as he said, "I think I like it this way." When she rolled her eyes, he added, "You were brilliant, by the way."

She glanced at the girl in the holding room, who by now had composed herself once more and looked angry again. "I almost feel bad for her."

Blake glanced past Bruce to her and gave her a slightly incredulous look. "She's a murderer who held the President at gunpoint yesterday."

"You don't say?" Selina replied sweetly. "I didn't say that she didn't need a straitjacket. But she's pathetic... like an abused pet or something."

"I'm sure she's been his punching bag since the beginning," Bruce muttered. "I don't even want to know what kind of things happen in a relationship with the Joker."

"What I don't understand," Blake said, "is why someone would be in a relationship with him to begin with."

Gordon reappeared soon thereafter, bearing a freshly faxed piece of paper signed by the attorney general. He handed it to Selina and said, "Tell her there's only one condition - she needs to submit herself to long term psychiatric care for as long as doctors deem fit when this is over. If she doesn't, her immunity's revoked."

Selina nodded and took the paper, then said, "You want me to tell her?"

Gordon shrugged and said, "You got her to talk. I have the feeling she wouldn't accept the condition from anyone else."

Selina nodded, glancing at Bruce one last time before re-entering the holding room.

"Good news," Selina said as the door closed behind her. She held up the paper and said, "You got your immunity."

Harley's eyes widened a little bit, showing her clear surprise.

Selina placed the paper down in front of her and produced a pen, but before she'd hand it over, she said, "There is one catch."

Harley's eyes narrowed. "What catch?"

"In exchange for not prosecuting you, you'll have to get help. Inpatient care, until you're cleared to be released."

Harley rolled her eyes and slumped back in her chair. "They think I'm really nuts."

Selina raised an eyebrow. "You're a psychiatrist yourself. Wouldn't you think you're nuts, looking in from the outside?"

"I don't know, maybe," Harley said, "but I'm _not_ crazy."

"Then you'll be out in no time and you have nothing to worry about," Selina said, handing the girl the pen.

Harley paused for only a moment before taking the pen, and then with some difficulty due to the cuffs, she signed the paper.

"Very good," Selina said, taking the pen back. "Now, what's your information?"

Harley sighed and said, "He's going to hit Wayne Enterprises next. I don't know exactly what event it is that he's going to crash, but it's something big, and he wants to cause a spectacle like yesterday and then blow up the building. It's personal, of course, so it'll be bad."

"And when is this happening?"

"I'm not sure, but it's soon."

"Did you hear any other details, like how he plans to hit it?" Selina pressed.

Harley shook her head. "No, but he said something about a conference and killing two birds with one stone."

Selina nodded, standing up. "Okay."

As she walked to the door, Harley called after her. "Hey, can I get these cuffs off now, at least?"

Gordon walked into the holding room the same moment that she left it, and when she was back at Bruce's side, he hung up his phone after immediately calling Lucius Fox at Harley's first mention of WE and turned to her as he said, "Fox says he must have someone inside Wayne Enterprises because they have a press conference with the mayor coming up in a week that nobody outside the company knows about."

"Press conference?" Blake asked.

"Yeah, they've managed to settle some of the legal issues that Bane caused and next week, they're announcing a new plan with the city to replace all of the trains and develop a brand new state of the art railway - its huge."

"Fantastic," Selina muttered.

"At least we have a heads up this time," Bruce said. "Let's go."

They left the MCU the same way they'd come in, through an inconspicuous back way shown to them by Gordon that kept them out of sight by the rest of the building's occupants, and then it was on to the Batcave - for Blake and Bruce, anyway, while Selina made a pit stop at Leslie's clinic after a change of clothes.

* * *

On the television in the same small clinic room that Selina had sat in the night prior was nonstop news coverage of the previous and current day's events. Senator McCullough was in stable condition after being shot twice by the Joker, the President had made a statement all but declaring war on the clown, and the country was in a state of general upheaval over the ordeal. The blown up orphanage was now being correctly blamed on the Joker, and some of Gotham's citizens were calling on the mayor to resign.

All in all, Selina thought that the Joker was probably greatly enjoying his handiwork, wherever he was.

"Back so soon?" Leslie smiled, chart in hand as she walked through the door. "How's the shoulder?"

"Feels like it got a bullet through it," Selina smiled back. "I'm not here for the shoulder, though."

Leslie took a seat on a stool in front of the exam table and nodded. "All right, what can I do for you?"

"I need another Depo shot," Selina replied. "I'm due for one this week."

"Oh okay," Leslie said, glancing down at her chart. "Simple enough. As you know, we'll have to do a pregnancy test first."

Selina nodded. "Yeah, I know the drill."

"How long have you been on the shot?" Leslie asked, getting up to retrieve a container from one of the cupboards.

"Not long, this will only be my second shot," she replied. "I was on the pill before."

"The shot's not popular with my patients," Leslie said, handing Selina the container. "They usually never go for the second one after the side effects with the first one."

Selina grimaced. "Yeah, those did bother me for the first month. But the shot's convenient."

"It is, but there's also a higher risk of complications," Leslie said. "Did your last doctor explain that to you?"

Selina paused. "No, I don't think so."

Leslie nodded. "Well, the risk is there. Also, should you change your mind about wanting children, the pill can be dropped much more quickly than the shot."

The doctor smiled, and Selina quickly said, "I don't plan on changing my mind any time soon."

"Be that as it may," Leslie said, still smiling.

Selina half-laughed and said, "All right, I'll switch back to the pill."

"Okay," Leslie nodded. "Go ahead and fill that up and I'll get the test out of the way."

Selina did as she was told, and as she waited for the doctor to return with the results, she watched the television without really seeing it, wondering what would happen if the test came back positive. She knew it wouldn't, but still, the idea floated through her head and brought forth some uncomfortable doubts within herself.

No matter what Bruce had said, she just couldn't see herself in the maternal sense. It seemed a strange, foreign idea, but it wasn't the horrifying prospect that it used to be, either. She had Bruce to thank for that - if the test did, by some odd fluke of a birth control failure, come back positive, then at least she knew the baby would have a good father. That was more than she'd ever been able to cling to before, during these tests.

She was imagining a smiling Bruce cradling a little dark-haired, dark-eyed baby when Leslie reappeared and snapped her back to reality. She blinked and wondered what in the world had possessed her to have such a daydream when the doctor said, "Got your results, and they're negative, of course."

Selina nodded and let out a breath. "Great."

Leslie smiled and sat on the stool once more, holding out a circular pill container. "Here's your pills. I'm sure you know the drill - take them at the same time every day, don't smoke, don't double up on a dose if you forget one."

Selina nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh," Leslie added, "and those antibiotics I put you on for the gunshot will make these useless until you're done taking them. So I'd exercise caution until then, unless you do decide to change your mind about kids."

Selina's eyes widened briefly before she nodded her understanding. "I'd forgotten about that - thanks for reminding me."

Leslie smiled and patted Selina on the back. "You know, he'd give you some beautiful children."

Selina laughed and stood up. "That's probably what my mother would say if she was here."

"She'd be right," Leslie smiled, leading her out of the exam room. "I know Alfred would like a grandchild."

Selina smiled, not only at the sentiment behind Alfred referring to a future child of Bruce's as his own grandchild, but at the butler himself, as he appeared around the corner as they entered the clinic's hallway.

"I heard my name," Alfred smiled, reaching out a one armed hug to Leslie and giving Selina a wink.

"This is unexpected," Leslie smiled, giving Alfred a small kiss on his cheek.

"Thought I'd surprise you and take you to lunch, darling," Alfred replied before turning his eyes to Selina. "How's the shoulder, Miss Kyle?"

"Adamson," Leslie gently corrected.

Selina smiled. "It's fine. And I'm fine."

"Good," Alfred nodded. "You can join us for lunch or I can give you a ride if you need one."

"A ride to the cave would be lovely," Selina replied. "But I'll let you have your privacy for lunch."

"Right then," Alfred nodded again, and the three of them headed towards the clinic's exit while Selina slid her pills into her pocket and tried to push away the vivid, lingering image of Bruce holding an imaginary child from her head. Her phone vibrated when her fingers brushed against it in her pocket, and when she pulled it out and read the text that she'd just received, she was pleased to learn that the BatPod had finally arrived at port and was ready to be picked up.

She hid her smirk as she remembered the plans that she'd cooked up involving the rather elaborate motorcycle, and started mulling over ways to kick Blake out of the Batcave tonight.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: My usual thanks and giant bear hugs to everyone who read and/or reviewed, shared ideas, etc., I LOVE you guys. Now if you'll indulge me for this, ahem, chapter, let me first say that since I started writing this story I have been dying to write the scene that takes place here, and OMG I can't believe I finally got to the point where I had reason and opportunity to make it happen lol. Warning to those of you who aren't big lemon fans, I chopped down an entire lemon tree to write this, and there isn't a whole lot of plot in this chapter (some, but not as much as usual) BUT, as shameless as it is, it _is_ still relevant to the plot, so yay me for multi-tasking! :P Of course, because I've wanted to write this for so long I'm horribly nervous about it because it's a little different from the kind of stuff I've written before aaaand I even wrote some cursing (super weird for me because I don't curse myself so I just naturally keep it to a minimum when I write), but, this is when I suck it up and upload it anyway and cross my fingers and hope everybody likes it :D Lol, and thanks once again to midnightwings96 for her continuing help and general amazingness :D. Ok, end of nervous ramble, and on to the Batcave... :D **

It was late when Selina drove the BatPod back to the Batcave, and she'd chosen to drive it there at that time on purpose. Bruce was done putting Blake through his grueling training for the day, and the two men were lingering over the computers and info-gathering on potentially untrustworthy employees of Wayne Enterprises when she returned as quietly as possible, leaving the BatPod out of their sight while she attempted to pull out a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket.

First she accidentally pulled out a roll of condoms that she'd just bought, and after stuffing them back inside, she pulled out the piece of paper that she'd been looking for, and glanced across the cave at the two men who hadn't even realized that she was back yet.

Blake said something and Bruce nodded, and the younger man began heading away from the computers. As he was walking past Selina unbeknownst, she reached out and grabbed him by the back of his collar and shoved him against the wall of the cave.

"What the -"

"Shut up," she muttered, shoving the piece of paper into his hand. "I need the cave."

"What's this?" he asked, still looking bewildered and opening up the paper to inspect it. "919-555-4398... who's Courtney?"

"Courtney is an old friend of mine who works at a club downtown," Selina explained. "She gets off in an hour, and she has a thing for... boyish brunettes."

"'_Boyish_'?" Blake repeated with furrowed brows.

"Yes, boyish," she replied. "You barely look like you're old enough to drink. Anyway -"

"Okay, first of all, I do look my age, and second, I don't know this girl, and -"

"I'm trying to do you a favor, Blake, take it or leave it. Either way, I need the cave."

Blake paused and then she added, "She's very cute. You can thank me later."

Then she let him go, and he glanced at the paper in his hand for a moment before muttering, "I don't even want to know what's about to happen here," and then walked off. Selina grinned and headed deeper into the cave to retrieve her catsuit.

* * *

"John?" Bruce called, hand on the keyboard as he squinted over some files on the large monitor before him, "Might have found something."

When nobody replied, Bruce called again, "John?"

The rumble of an engine behind him got his attention, and he turned around slowly in his chair. A bright light shone directly on him, and he could just make out Selina's shape on top of his old motorcycle, arguably the coolest one in existence.

"Your protege is out for the night," Selina said, turning off the headlight and leaning forward on her arms. As his eyes adjusted once more to the dim light of the cave, he could see the devilish sparkle in her eyes as she said, "Look what finally arrived from Italy."

Bruce grinned as he took in the sight of Selina, dressed fully as Catwoman, sitting atop the BatPod, her lips red and eyes dark as the cold air of the cave suddenly started to warm up rather quickly.

"Cat got your tongue?" she purred, raising an eyebrow.

"Something like that," Bruce said, standing up and walking towards her, hunger growing in his eyes.

She leaned back and sat up straight, grinning as she said, "I thought that it was time that fantasy of yours that you told me about in Italy became a reality."

He pushed back some of his growing hair from his eyes and stepped up on the platform that the BatPod was sitting on, slowly closing the distance between them as he said, "You know that I was working on something pretty important just now."

"Oh, I'm sorry - would you like me to come back another time?" she asked in a falsely sweet voice. "I didn't realize you were working on something _important_."

"Actually," Bruce said, reaching out and running his hand along the arm shields, "if you left now, I'd never forgive you."

"Well then," she said, gracefully moving further back on the tank, "come on up here. Just enough room for two."

A moment later, he'd climbed up on the motorcycle and was sitting backwards on it, facing her and immediately placing his hands on her hips. His eyes moved from her lips and roamed all the way down to where her legs were parted over the tank, and she said softly, "I know you said leather was a part of your fantasy, and this isn't leather, but -"

"This works," he said in a slightly choked voice.

"I thought it would," she smiled. She placed gloved hands on his shoulders and said, "So tell me - what exactly did we do in this fantasy of yours?"

"A better question would be, what _didn't_ we do?" he replied, bringing one of his hands to her face and sliding a finger underneath her mask just above her ear. "But I'll be honest - you never wore a mask in my thoughts. I love your face too much."

She couldn't help the flip flop that her heart performed, though she felt a bit silly about it. He lifted her mask and tossed it aside, and she blinked heavy lidded eyes at him. "You know, I should make you go put your suit on. I might enjoy taking it off."

"So I'm not the only one with a fantasy?" he ventured, bringing his face closer to hers with each word.

She laughed. "Oh, please. You haven't even begun to scratch the surface of what's in my head."

"You'll have to prove it to me one of these days," he murmured before finally pressing his lips to hers.

His hands gripped her hips and pulled her swiftly against him, and the BatPod shifted a little bit with the sudden impact. He was already as hard as rock, she discovered, and she figured he probably had been since he first laid eyes on her like this a few moments earlier. She wound her fingers in his hair and one of his hands moved up the front of her, over her breast and to the zipper at her neck, which he tried to pull down before she gently pushed his hands away.

"Impatient," she grinned as his lips moved to her neck. His hands moved back to her waist and she withdrew one of her hands from his hair to eject one a razor-sharp claw from the tip of her glove.

The sound got his attention, and his eye fell upon the claw as he reluctantly pulled away. He looked back to her and she kissed him as she ran the tip of the blade quickly down his shirt, severing it from the top down before withdrawing the claw and pushing the now worthless fabric from his shoulders. Then she pushed him down on his back and grinned as she hovered over him.

His legs were dangling off the sides of the vehicle and she knew, especially with his back, that he probably wouldn't stay comfortable like this for long, so she didn't waste any time giving him a quick kiss before trailing her lips down to his neck. His fingers held on to her hair as she moved lower and lower, his breath coming in harder as her hands moved to free him of his jeans.

He was sure he'd never been so happy to be rid of pants before in his life, and when a warm, skilled mouth enclosed around him blessedly quickly after, he let his head fall back as he groaned happily. When his eyes were done rolling into the back of his head he opened them slowly and stared up at the cave ceiling without really seeing it, barely noticing the bats fluttering around as Selina made waves of pleasure ripple through him, and then he made the mistake of looking down towards her.

She turned her head just slightly and locked eyes with him, while he was deep inside of her mouth, and without warning, it all suddenly became too much. With a throaty moan that came out before he could stop it, he shuddered and came long before he'd wanted to.

Slightly embarrassed, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back once more, trying to catch his breath and ignoring the fact that Selina was giggling as he cursed. "Fuck."

"I guess I'm a little too efficient for my own good," she grinned, appearing over him once more and running her fingers through his hair.

"Yeah," he said breathlessly, opening his eyes as his hands found her waist automatically.

She smiled and took his hands in hers, scooting back a little bit as she pulled him up into a sitting position. "So," she said, kissing him lightly on his lips, "now let's see how good I really am."

He was still panting a little bit as he kissed her back, murmuring after pulling away, "I think that was established a long time ago."

"Well," she sighed, "if I can get you ready again in five minutes or less, I'll be happy."

He grinned as she took his hand and placed it on the zipper of her suit, at the base of her neck, and he gladly pulled it down. He stopped near her navel, and she took over from there, making impressively quick work of getting out of the moderately lightweight but intricate and strong suit, as well as kicking off her boots and disposing of her utility belt.

She wore nothing underneath the ensemble, just as he'd hoped for, and when the slightly cold air hit her fully bare skin, she turned herself around and leaned back against Bruce, resting her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes briefly as his lips kissed her neck and his hands cupped her breasts.

His tongue flicked out and tasted her skin, sending shivers down her spine as his thumbs rolled over her nipples, earning little quick breaths that he then caught with his lips as he kissed her passionately. Their tongues danced with one another in search of dominance, as they always did, and when one of his hands started moving lower over her belly, her own hand beat him to his destination and slipped between her own legs.

His eyes opened and his lips left hers as he peered down, his denied hand lingering on her belly as she brought her lips to his ear and whispered, "Watch."

He tore his eyes away briefly to look into hers, and she smiled when he couldn't seem to say anything, instead making a grunt-like noise as she felt a satisfyingly hard twitch against her back.

His chin rested on her shoulder as he did as he was told, watching her touch herself and using his hands and lips on other parts of her body to help her along, not that he thought she needed it, judging by the soft little moans escaping her lips and the way she was moving with her own rhythm. Blood was pooling between his legs again and he was uncomfortably, but thankfully, hard again in far less than the five minutes she'd estimated.

His teeth were nipping at her ear when he noticed the way that she started rolling her hips, the way that she always did when she was teetering on the edge of orgasm, and he suddenly seized her arm and forced her to stop. Then he pressed his lips to her ear and growled in the voice that he knew drove her wild, "Turn around."

She bit her lip to hide a smile as she did what he said, though she looked up at him in puzzlement when he stood up from the BatPod.

"Put your arms in the shields," he rasped, and she did that as well, sliding into a riding position and taking the controls in her hands. She watched as he flipped on the ignition and then disappeared behind her.

Her whole body vibrated with the rumble of the engine, enhanced by the lack of anything between her and the tank of the motorcycle, and she now saw where he was going with this as she felt his chest press against her back and his lips graze the back of her neck.

Then his breath was hot against her ear once more, and in that deep voice that she loved so much, he said, "Rev it up."

She smiled and flexed her fingers, and at the same moment that the engine groaned and sent a jolt of pleasure up through her core, he plunged inside of her, and out of her mouth flowed a very colorful mix of vulgar nonsense.

He gave her a moment to catch her breath, kissing along the back of her good shoulder as she glanced back towards him and panted, "Fuck!"

He chuckled and murmured, "Yeah, the vibration's a little stronger in this than in your average bike."

"How did I not notice before?"

"Well," he replied, finally thrusting into her again and earning another curse from her lips, "It helps being naked and not wearing armor."

He wasn't kidding. She revved the engine in time with his movements and found herself cursing the fact that it had taken them this long to do this. It was a dramatic change of pace from their recent times together, fast and frantic, desperate and a little crazed, and between Bruce's thrusts and his hands and lips and the ever-useful engine, she didn't make it two minutes before her walls clenched around him and her moans easily surpassed the volume of those from the night prior.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip as she shuddered and shook under him, trying not to lose it himself, and he stilled within her for a moment, giving them both a moment to collect themselves. Then he lost his precarious footing on the BatPod, having been standing awkwardly on the footrests and half-kneeling on the tank, and he tumbled off of it and to the platform, taking a dazed Selina with him.

She landed on top of him, thankfully on her good shoulder, and as he cursed at the pain of colliding with the hard floor, she started laughing.

"I'm glad you find this funny," he winced slightly.

"I do," she smiled, kissing him and swinging her leg over his waist to straddle him and finish what they'd started, but he had other plans.

Within seconds he was on his feet and she was off of hers. First he pushed her against one of the cave's walls and picked up where he left off, but then he abruptly moved them again and then she found herself being placed on a much more smooth surface than against a jagged wall.

In between his kisses and maneuvering of her legs around his waist, she glanced behind her and said, "The Tumbler?"

"The Tumbler," he confirmed with a growl, half-laying her down on what served as the hood of the enormous vehicle before entering her again. He was hard and unforgiving about it and she loved it, gasping as his lips claimed hers and his hips pounded against her, and listening to guttural sounds crawl out of his throat while she simply held on to him for dear life.

Then he was on his feet again, unexpectedly, and he was carrying her back to where they started, though this time he placed her on the platform next to the BatPod and resigned himself to finishing this on the floor. He didn't mind, and neither did she, and after a few more moments of the crazed, intense rhythm that they'd created, she arched into him and let out a new string of moans that eliminated his grip on himself and sent him spiraling into his second climax of the night, and third of the entire day.

A good day, all in all.

"Oh God," Bruce panted gruffly but happily after finally recovering his voice, rolling off of Selina and on to his back, the two of them lying next to one another on the floor as they tried to learn how to breathe again. After a moment filled with silence broken only by their shared panting, Bruce turned his head towards Selina and grinned as he said, "I love you."

She laughed, and he laughed with her. She moved her hand to brush her hair from out of her eyes, and in the process, her hand brushed against her long-discarded utility belt, which was laying directly above her head.

She froze as she remembered a very important step that she'd forgotten tonight. Inside the belt were the condoms she'd bought today as a backup form of birth control while she finished her round of precautionary antibiotics - condoms that she'd forgotten about entirely, and condoms that Bruce didn't even know were needed.

Oops.

* * *

She didn't say a word to Bruce on their way back to Blake's apartment a half hour later, half because she simply didn't want to and half because she wouldn't dare disturb the extremely satisfied and happy look that was on Bruce's face. She considered it a miracle that, despite everything happening around them, she'd managed to pull tonight off at all, let alone as wildly successful as it had been.

And anyway, she doubted that one little night without birth control would result in anything. Besides, her last shot may not have even fully worn off yet, she reasoned with herself, so there was really no reason to worry.

He held her hand as they entered the apartment, and Selina quickly remembered the "favor" she'd done for Blake when they walked into the living room to find a pair of black high heels discarded on the floor, next to Blake's keys and a trail of other things that led, predictably, to his room.

Selina raised her eyebrows and headed down the hallway. "Fantastic."

She wasn't being sarcastic - she really was pleased that her plan had worked, and she hoped that now he'd be a little more loose and a little less annoying as Bruce followed her quietly into their room.

Selina was closing the door when a very feminine moan came floating out from the bedroom across the hall, and she suppressed a laugh. She glanced at Bruce, who narrowed his eyes as he said, "Was that..."

"A taste of our own medicine," she replied, closing the door.

"'_Our_ medicine'? he repeated, kicking off his shoes. "I'm not the loud one."

"You were tonight," she grinned.

"Yeah, well, we were alone in a cave," he pointed out as she fell into bed.

"Not quite," she smiled. "Think of all the poor little bats that will never be the same after tonight."

Bruce rolled his eyes good-naturedly and picked up the small box on their nightstand as he got into bed beside her, saying, "Let me see your shoulder."

She obliged, and as he went to work changing her bandage, she watched his fingers move and said, "I don't know how you managed to throw me around so much without hurting my shoulder once."

"I'm careful," he replied, glancing up at her briefly.

She almost admitted her own lack of care and caution tonight, but the words got stuck in her throat. She reminded herself that there was nothing to worry about, and when he finished replacing her bandage and turned off the light, she settled into his arms and closed her eyes.

He kissed her and held her close, and she couldn't deny the feeling of peace that washed over her as a result. She drifted off to sleep, hoping that tonight would be another one free of nightmares for both her and Bruce.

Her hopes came only half true, to her dismay.


	20. Chapter 20

**Okay - I present this update with a head hung in shame for taking so long to write it, but I have valid excuses! Lol, without going into too much detail, suffice it to say that my life has become a bad episode of Jerry Springer and that I discovered that my husband stole thousands of dollars from my personal savings as well as cheated on me with a DUDE... I wish I was kidding but I am not lol. So I haven't had a lot of time to write lately, but I AM going to finish this and still write a sequel. And 40 reviews for the last chapter? WOW - you guys rock! I kept track of the mini-debate that went down in the reviews, haha, and I'm going to answer a few questions now. Yes, when Selina says the three words, it's going to be epic and it will be worth the wait, so to everyone whose patience may be running a bit thin - just trust me and hold tight a little bit longer :D also, there were a few suggestions that I make the smut a bit... smuttier :P I'll be honest, that's not going to happen. Too much detail weirds me out, and if something weirds me out, I'm not going to write it. I prefer reading sex scenes where the dirtiest details are left to the imagination, and that's how I naturally write them. But a few of you said that I should describe the character's physical appearances more specifically, and I do think I could do a better job of that. So thank you :D (the last thing I want is a reader imagining Michael Keaton instead of Christian Bale, which is what one person said was happening lol - eek!) Ehecatl, nope I have not read any of the Fifty Shades books, so any similarities are coincedental :D a big compliment though, so thank you :D and to william martinez and a few others, don't worry, I have not forgotten that Bruce Wayne is the ultimate BAMF and an amazing fighter even with all of his physical issues, and you'll soon see what I mean by that :D (btw thank you william for your awesome reviews!) Okay I think I covered everything... thanks also to the always-amazing midnightwings96, who helped get me unstuck at a certain point in this chapter and puts up with my annoying, rambly self... :D now, this isn't the best chapter probably, but... the action starts very, very soon. And I am excited. I love you guys! My husband sucks but you guys don't LOL :)**

It was in the dead of night, just before 3 AM, when the arms that were cradling Selina began to tremble and hands gripped her skin tightly. Her eyes fluttered open as his chest behind her started rising and falling with erratic breaths, and when her instinct quickly kicked in, she extracted herself from Bruce's embrace swiftly and moved to the far side of the bed away from him.

She watched him carefully, her eyebrows knitting together as one of his hands gripped the sheets and the other balled into a fist near his head, while his mouth opened and allowed alarmingly soft whimpers to escape his throat. At first it was just sounds that came out of his lips, no distinguishable words, and Selina's eyes moved to his tightly shut ones. They were clenched shut as if he was in pain, and there was sweat glistening on his brow while his whole body shook with growing violence.

Selina watched helplessly, afraid to try to wake him and afraid to let him be. She was moving to leave the bed and turn the light on and make some noise, hoping to wake him in that way, when her name came out of his mouth in a strangled-sounding, horrible broken cry.

She froze and turned her eyes back to him, startling a bit when his face twisted into an expression of rage and his body stopped quaking and started tensing as if ready to strike. She quickly left the bed and flipped on the light, then circled back around the bed and fretted about what to do.

His voice was coming out in ragged, angry gasps and grunts and he looked as if he was dreaming about beating somebody particularly brutally. He rolled on to his back and then back to his side, and she decided to take a risk and end this before he ended up hurting himself.

She walked to his side of the bed and leaned down close enough for him to hear but far enough away that he couldn't reach out and strike her, and in a firm voice she said, "Bruce, wake up."

When nothing changed, she tried again. "Bruce."

After that failed to rouse him as well, she decided to really be daring and reached out a hand to his shoulder, intending to jump away almost as soon as her hand made contact. "Bruce, wake up."

His eyes flew open and she quickly moved to jump away but he was quicker than her, even half asleep, and his hands seized her wrists as he looked at her through unfocused eyes.

"Bruce!" she exclaimed, "Bruce, it's me! You were dreaming, it's fine! Bruce -"

His eyes cleared and his grip on her wrists relaxed a bit as he blinked. She repeated softly, "It's fine."

His eyes moved down to her wrists in his hands and his bewildered expression became one of horror. "Oh God - what did - what did I do? Did I hurt you? Did I -"

"No, no," she quickly shook her head, "no, you didn't hurt me."

She sat down beside him as he dragged a hand over his eyes and then raked his fingers over his sweat-dampened hair, and she placed one of her hands over his and said quietly, "Please don't keep burying this. I want to help you."

He sat up and dropped his forehead into his hands briefly, steadying his still-heavy breathing as he muttered, "I haven't buried this one. It was new."

"I don't even know what your old nightmares were about."

He looked down at their hands and paused, sniffing back what appeared to be tears that had welled up in his eyes while he was in the throes of his dream. She reached out her free hand and brushed his hair away from his face, and he finally said, "I could have hurt you."

"But you didn't," she replied. "And don't try to change the subject."

He shook his head and muttered, "I can't even sleep next to my own... to you. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Start by telling me what happened," she proposed.

He stared in front of him, and a very long moment passed before he finally opened his mouth and said quietly, "I dreamed that he killed you."

She kept her gaze on him, though he continued to stare ahead. He added, "I couldn't move. I couldn't stop him. I just watched."

He swallowed and his hand twitched underneath her palm. "And then," he said, "I killed him."

She withdrew her hand and he glanced back at her as she stood briefly and then sat back down in front of him, taking his face in her hands. She didn't say anything, simply looking into his eyes as she pushed back his long hair and rubbed her thumb over the scruff on his jaw.

"I hate watching you fight," Bruce said, his arms enclosing around her. "I hate not being there, I hate being useless."

"This will be over soon," Selina said softly. "And you're far from useless."

"I wish you'd stayed behind and waited for me," he said honestly. "After Rachel... all I can think about is what would happen if he killed you too."

"He won't."

"He almost did."

Selina sighed. "Bruce..."

"You wanted to know," he interrupted. "Now you do."

They stared at one another for a moment in silence, Selina unsure of what to say when really, she knew he had every right to fear the past repeating itself. Then her thoughts were cut short when Bruce pulled her to him in a tight embrace, his breath hot on her neck and arms strong as they held her close. Her fingers played with the ends of his hair and she closed her eyes, relaxing into him and letting him slowly ease them back down on the bed a moment later.

He kissed her lips lightly after they settled into one another's arms, and after he laid his head down on his pillow, he looked into her eyes and said, "I know you have nightmares, too."

"Everyone does from time to time," she said neutrally.

"You have at least three a week," he replied. Selina's eyes narrowed slightly and he added, "They don't last long, and you usually fall asleep pretty quickly after you wake up from them, but, I can always see them in your eyes the next morning."

"I guess you expect me to tell you what mine are about since you told me about yours," she said. When he didn't reply, she sighed and said, "If you must know, I have to relive you getting beaten and broken over and over until I wake up hating myself all over again."

The words came out harsher than she'd intended, almost in an accusatory tone, but he knew why that was. "Selina..."

"Sometimes," she said, averting her eyes briefly to avoid the softness that had overtaken his eyes, "I still wonder why in the world you're here with me after what I did to you."

He smiled and brought a hand to the side of her face, caressing it as he murmured back, "Sometimes I still wonder why you'd give the time of day to a cripple with more baggage than a 747."

"I'm serious," she replied flatly.

"I forgave you a long time ago, Selina," he said. "You know that. I've always known that there's more to you than the mistakes you made when you were desperate."

She paused and said, "It doesn't change what I did." She reached a finger to the small, fading scar that sat above his brow, a permanent reminder of Bane that he'd carry for the rest of his life, and she traced it gently.

Bruce responded by running his finger over the bandage on her shoulder and saying, "This wouldn't be here if not for me, either."

"One gunshot doesn't even begin to compare to what Bane left you with," she pointed out.

He then leaned forward and captured her lips with his. It wasn't a light kiss, nor a hard one, but the kind that made her head spin and her heart thump while her spine tingled with pleasant shivers. Nobody had ever kissed her like this except Bruce, and every time he did, she let herself fall a little deeper. This time was no exception.

"It's not what I was left with," he said after he pulled away, his eyes intent on hers, "it's what I'm lucky enough to have now."

She shook her head slightly, still recovering from his kiss and breathing just a little bit heavier. "You sure know how to make a girl forget what she was talking about."

He grinned and replied, "You make me forget about my nightmares."

She paused, having not expected the warmth that washed over her at these words. The small smile on his lips was light but his dark eyes showed how serious he was. She responded with a kiss of her own, and she knew that one of these days, it wouldn't be enough for him. Eventually, she'd have to say the words that kept getting stuck in her throat, but Bruce was a patient man, and she knew he understood.

Her kiss had a similar effect on him as his did on her, and when she opened her eyes and let her lips leave his, he looked just slightly dazed, as she had.

She ran her fingers through his hair and said softly, "You should sleep." He opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly shushed him and said, "And no, you aren't sleeping on the floor."

"Selina -"

"You're not leaving this bed," she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

He looked for a moment like he was going to argue, but then he closed his mouth and reached across her to turn off the lamp beside the bed. Darkness swept the room and as her eyes adjusted, Bruce slipped a bit further down the bed and wound his arms around her waist as his head came to rest under her chin and against her chest. She threaded her fingers in his hair and they both closed their eyes as Bruce sighed, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Bruce."

* * *

They slept blissfully well for the duration of the night, and Selina had the pleasure of waking up to Bruce's way of thanking her for the previous night, which kept them in bed a bit longer than they'd originally planned.

When they did manage to get out of bed, they ended up in the shower, which took twice as long as it should have, and Selina was the one who ended up convincing Bruce to get a move on with the day. She didn't think she'd ever see the day that he put his own physical gratification above his almost compulsive dedication to his work, but, it seemed that she was threatening his resolve more and more as time went on.

He kissed her neck when they were dressed and she was opening the door, and as she grinned, her eyes travelled down the hallway and fell upon the sight of a young girl at the far end, standing at the front door in the same pair of black high heels that had been carelessly discarded on the living room floor the night prior.

Selina narrowed her eyes and quickly took in the girl's appearance, deducing that she most definitely was not Courtney, whose number shed given Blake yesterday. This girl was taller, had smooth dark skin and long, curly black hair that fell to the middle of her back, and she was kissing Blake goodbye in a way that implied that they were not new acquaintances.

Selina closed the door to a thin crack so that she could still just make out the scene at the edge of the hallway, and she muttered, "Well, that's unexpected."

"I'll say," Bruce replied, peering out the opening behind her, his arm still around her waist. "That's Raven Fox."

"Fox?"

"Yeah, Lucius' niece," Bruce replied. "I know her from Wayne Enterprises. She's an engineer, works in R & D."

"She's an engineer?" Selina said doubtfully, looking over the girl's figure as Blake extended their kiss goodbye when he pinned her with his body against the front door. "Looks more like a model."

"Yeah, well," Bruce mused, his breath against her ear, "looks can be deceiving."

With a giggle, the girl freed herself from Blake's captivity and slipped out the door. Selina chuckled, "Robin and Raven. Ironic."

"Almost as ironic as the Bat and the Cat," Bruce grinned as he pushed the door open and nudged Selina forward. As they became visible, Blake glanced their way and then headed towards the kitchen with the slightest of grins directed towards Bruce.

Selina bounded forward and quickly caught up to Blake. "How long have you let me make fun of you while you were hiding _that_?"

His back was turned to her as Blake entered the small kitchen and reached for a blender full of the bland but extremely healthy concoction of protein and grass that he and Bruce both downed every morning, but she knew there was a grin on his face as he said, "Long enough to get pretty sick of your crap."

He turned and handed Bruce a glass of the liquid, and Selina was fairly sure the two men shared a look that was the equivalent of a mental high five. Bruce spoke next. "Lucius' niece."

"Yeah," Blake said with a mild grimace after downing the drink in one swallow.

"Is it serious?" Bruce prodded.

Blake turned and set his glass down in the sink before turning back to them and saying, "Would I let a girl stay over in the same place I'm hiding the two of you in if it wasn't?"

"Interesting," Selina piped up, "coming from the same man who questioned Bruce about his trust in me. Especially when we've been trying to narrow down who the Joker's contact inside of WE is."

"If there's anyone in that building I trust, it's her," Blake said.

"I merely find it ironic," Selina smiled.

"Yeah, well," Blake muttered as he walked past them and out of the kitchen, "we need to get going."

Selina waited until the younger man was out of earshot before she turned to Bruce and asked quietly, "What do you think?"

"I know Raven Fox," he answered equally as quietly. "Lucius practically raised her. I'm not worried about her. At this point I think the Joker's men are in the mayor's office."

"He turned most of the Secret Service against the President," Selina replied. "At this point, I think his men are everywhere."

* * *

Twelve hours later, after the most brutal day of training yet that left even Bruce with bruises, Selina dressed down to a tank and shorts and fell into bed back at Blake's apartment exhausted and almost fell asleep the instant her head hit the pillows. She vaguely noticed Bruce's weight shifting into the space beside her, and seconds later, his arm was around her waist and his lips were on the exposed curve of her shoulder.

She settled against him but didn't open her eyes, a smile crossing her lips when the arm around her waist shifted and his hand moved up and underneath the front of her shirt. The scruff on his face was rough against her neck but his kisses there were soft, but growing more insistent. His hand moved down over her stomach and over her hip and ended up on her inner thigh, and she finally said, "Your stamina might be surpassing mine."

He turned her over so that she faced him and grinned. "You bring out the teenage boy in me, I guess."

He then pulled her against him and continued his assault on her neck, and she smiled as she mindlessly said, "We probably shouldn't, though."

He immediately paused, and she realized that now she needed to give him an explanation. He lifted his head and asked, "Why not?"

"Nothing, I'm just tired," she shrugged, looking up into his dark eyes and hoping he wouldn't pry.

"That's not what you meant," he said, eyes narrowed on her.

She half-rolled her eyes. "Seriously, I'm out of it right now -"

"Selina."

"Oh, _fine_," she sighed. "I switched birth control and we're supposed to use backup while I'm on these stupid antibiotics. I forgot last night."

He stared at her blankly for a moment before comprehension dawned on his features. "You mean..."

"Yeah."

"Oh."

She studied his face for some glimmer of a reaction, but his face remained alarmingly blank. She started to panic. What if she _did_ end up pregnant from last night, as unlikely as it was, and he _wasn't_ happy about it? What if his baby talk had been all theoretical, and once faced with the reality of such a prospect, he'd decide that he didn't want children after all? What was he thinking _now_?

She got her answer when, to her immense relief, a smile grew on his lips and he repeated much more softly, "_Oh_."

She breathed a sigh of relief, then very mild annoyance at his hopeful expression set in. "Don't get too excited. It's an extremely slight possibility, but still more than I'd like to have."

He ran a finger along her cheek and said, "I've never known you to be careless or forgetful."

"Please don't imply that I forgot on purpose," she said. "I didn't. I haven't changed my mind on kids."

"Fair enough," he murmured. She could tell, however, that he thought there was more to her mistake than she'd care to admit. "But if it did happen... how bad could it be?"

She half-snorted. "No maternal instinct, remember? I don't think I've ever even held a baby."

He shrugged. "Just... just imagine; a small, private island... house on the beach... a couple of little kids running around barefoot, driving us crazy..."

The scary thing was, she could imagine it. Her daydream from a few days ago of Bruce smiling and holding a tiny bundle of joy in his arms came flooding back to her mind as well, and she could almost see a whole future play out in Bruce's eyes.

If there had ever been a moment to panic, this would have been it. But she didn't panic.

She'd barely noticed how Bruce's expression changed until he'd kissed her. His arms were warm around her and he was kissing her the way that he did when he was trying to tell her something, and she couldn't help but respond in much the same way.

She could hardly breathe and she was wide awake now, feeling a rush of emotion that she hadn't anticipated and didn't completely understand. Bruce's lips left hers and his forehead rested against hers as his breath danced across her slightly parted lips, and when she opened her eyes they locked with his, and they found themselves in a moment that was suddenly heavy and inescapable.

The words were on her lips. Three words that would change everything and yet nothing, because she was sure that he already knew. He'd probably known before she did. He did seem to know her better than she knew herself, she had to admit.

And now, in a darkened bedroom late in the night, staring into eyes that made her heart thud and being held by arms that made her feel anchored and stable for the first time in her life, she wanted to finally say the words. She wanted to give this to him, and she wanted to spend the rest of her days proving how much she meant them.

She opened her mouth, and her heart pounded as it realized what she was about to say.

Then there was a loud knock on the door. "Bruce, Selina, there's something you both need to see. Now."

And just like that, the moment was gone.

"All right," Bruce called back to Blake, never taking his eyes off of the visibly frustrated Selina. She sighed and rolled out of bed, feeling like an idiot and already plotting ways to beat the crap out of Blake if this didn't turn out to be one hell of an important "thing to see".


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Thank you guys for all of your reviews, well wishes, & prayers - gosh, you guys are the best! (to misskyle - that "RISE" at the end of your review totally made my day!) The story has hit it's pinnacle, folks - the crap is officially about to hit the fan. And so for that reason, I'm going to say once again that I love you guys SO MUCH, and then shut my mouth and let the chaos begin! (and I hope that you guys trust me... you'll understand what I mean soon :p) And thank you SO MUCH to midnightwings96 - your help is utterly invaluable!**

Blake dragged Bruce and Selina down the hallway when they emerged from their bedroom, both wearing slightly irritated expressions as they followed him into the living room and in front of the television.

Blake grabbed the remote and turned up the volume on the local news channel that the TV was tuned to, and he said, "This just aired about five minutes ago."

The three watched in silence as the camera cut from the grim-looking anchorman to a video that started out shaky and blurry before it focused on the face of a man named Gerald Hughes, Gotham's deputy mayor. Little else could be seen besides the short, portly man's face underneath a bald head that was damp with sweat, but then a bright light burst forth above his head and the camera zoomed out as the Joker's distinct giggling was heard. Hughes was revealed to be standing in the middle of a mostly bare room inside of some sort of large, half-open box, strapped inside and powerless to move.

"Now, Mr. Deputy Mayor _Gerald Hughes_, go ahead and welcome our viewers to the show, would you? Go on, don't be shy."

The man trembled and gulped loudly.

"Well, come on, we don't want to be rude, do we? You're the special guest, spit it out!"

"Wel - wel - c - co -"

"Oh for God's sake, _must_ I do everything myself?" The camera shook a bit more and turned around, landing on the Joker's face and revealing his merry expression underneath his thick makeup. "Welcome to tonight's show, everyone, and _boy_, do I have a show in store for you."

The Joker grinned and continued, "We'll get to the main event in a minute, but first, I have a few... announcements."

The camera got tossed to what appeared to be a table, and the Joker sat down in front of it, with the terrified deputy mayor powerless behind him. "Now, I pride myself on being a man of honesty. It's one of the things that separates me from the supposed 'Caped Crusader', and everyone else in Gotham who pretends to be on your side. And I think it's time Gotham knows the truth about the Batman."

"The truth is... the guy who's been running around calling himself the Batman is _not_ the real Batman. And it's not because the real one got blown up earlier this year. He's alive, and he's in Gotham right now. Now, I don't know who the impostor is - _yet_ - but I know who the real Batman is. And I'm going to tell you."

Selina glanced at Bruce out of the corner of her eye and saw that his jaw was as tense as she'd ever seen it.

The Joker then added after a brief silence, "... In a few days."

Then he laughed and stood up, walking towards his victim and saying, "Always leave 'em wanting more, am I right, _Gerry_?"

When the man merely trembled, the Joker slapped him a couple of times with a purple-gloved palm and then began checking the leather straps restraining him to the box. "You need to lighten up. Laugh a little. Say, how about a magic trick? That usually gets the job done."

A moment later, the Joker produced a large, weathered-looking saw from behind the box, and he brandished it in front of the camera. "This one always gets the crowd going - I'm going to saw a man not in half, but in thirds! And look, I already have a volunteer!"

The deputy mayor whimpered as his eyes widened at the sight of the sword, and as his lip quivered, the Joker smiled and said, "Now, now, no reason to be so scared - I've done this a million times. I know... _exactly_... what I'm doing."

The Joker then glanced at the camera and said, "Consider this my first act in an ongoing series."

He then slammed the door shut on the box, and the man screamed for a brief moment before dissolving into tears. The Joker, unfazed as ever, locked the box and then tossed the saw up in the air, catching it by its handle when it came back down. "Now as you can see - just an ordinary saw, and an ordinary box. I think I'll work my way up from the bottom... yeah, that'll work nicely."

He turned the saw to the box and whacked it at where Hughes' legs began underneath the box's door, and then he began sawing. Hughes began truly losing it then, crying and pleading hysterically as the saw made its way through the box, but when the blade hit the tops of his legs, that was when the blood-curdling screams began.

"Oh my," the Joker giggled, "must be stuck on something. It's an old prop - what else do you expect?"

Undeterred, once the bottom section was done, the Joker then placed the red-dripping saw near the top of the box and began sawing once more as the man continued to scream horrible, agonized, gut-wrenching cries of unspeakable pain. But once the saw made contact through the box with the flesh of his neck, the screaming turned into equally horrifying gurgles, and after that, there was only silence.

The Joker then yanked the bloodied saw from the box and tossed it to the floor, smoothing back his green hair after the physically exerting task he'd just completed, and with a glance to the camera he said, "Phew - all right, let's see what we got here._ Ta-da_!"

He unlocked the box's door and swung it open to reveal three separate compartments that were now saturated in the deputy mayor's blood - the bottom one contained his severed legs, the second contained his midsection and some guts that were spilling out and unravelling, and the top one contained his head and part of his neck, at least until the head came tumbling down and out of the box, spraying blood as it went.

The head landed at the Joker's feet, and he found this to be absolutely hysterical. "Oh, well... - oops!" He bent down and picked up the head by the ends of what little hair was on it, and he giggled as he held it up for the camera to see, "I guess I shouldn't quit my day job!"

He then tossed the head back inside the box and leaned close into the camera as he said, "That's it for tonight's show, but I assure you, there's lots more to come - and everyone knows by now that I'm a man of my word. And I know you're out there watching, _Batman_... not the impostor, but the real one... and just remember... the more you try to hide behind this Bat-wannabe friend of yours, the more things like _this_ -" he waved behind him towards the box - "will happen."

Then there was a flash of yellow teeth and stretched red lips as the Joker laughed, and the the video was over.

Blake turned off the television and glanced past Bruce to Selina, who shared his uneasy expression, and then they both looked up at Bruce.

His fists were clenched tightly at his sides and Selina knew what he was going to say before he said it. "I'm only going to say this once. I'm not going to argue about it or debate with either of you. I'm done staying behind. I'm done sitting on the sidelines. I'm finishing this on Friday. This is it. It's over."

He looked, or rather, glared at Blake, who said nothing. He then looked at Selina, who opened her mouth to protest before he immediately shushed her.

"No - _no_. You heard me, Selina."

With that, Bruce stormed from the room. Selina sighed and closed her eyes, and Blake glanced at her and said, "He'll be fine. You know neither of us can stop him."

She did know that, and now there was the dull ache of a fresh knot twisting inside the pit of her stomach.

* * *

The next five days went by in a haze of training, planning, and more training that eliminated nearly all of their sleeping time but they weren't suffering terribly - they most likely wouldn't have been able to sleep even if they'd had the time, anyway.

As to the plan, Selina and Blake had unhappily accepted Bruce's proposal of being present at the press conference in plainclothes, not intending to throw himself directly into battle but intending to watch over them and help if needed - that's what he said, anyway, but Selina suspected he had other plans that he was keeping to himself.

Alfred had agreed to assist them from the Batcave during the press conference, and Leslie would be nearby in case something happened to one of them. Commissioner Gordon and Blake were in contact, though he was only able to do do much now that the National Guard and FBI were going to be involved in security for the conference.

Wayne Enterprises had been secured as well as a ten-block radius around it, and whatever the Joker had planned, he wouldn't be able to do it from within WE or anywhere near it - hopefully, anyway. Bruce placed little faith in the "security", knowing the Joker could get in anywhere he wanted, but in the end, he _wanted_ the Joker to breach security. He _wanted_ the fight to happen, because he was determined for it to be the last fight he was ever a part of.

When Selina woke up from her paltry three hours of sleep Friday morning, the day of the press conference, she was unsurprised to find Bruce's side of the bed empty. After she got out of bed and dressed, she found him and Blake deep in conversation in the living room, neither of them having slept at all seemingly, and when she caught Bruce's eye and then walked back down the hall, she heard him mutter something to Blake before going after her.

She walked into their bedroom and he followed only seconds later, closing the door behind him. She turned to him and said quietly, "You didn't sleep, did you?"

"A little," he shrugged.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied.

She crossed her arms as she said, "I suppose there's no point in trying to change your mind again."

He shook his head. "No."

"Then I guess I'll just have to make sure I take out the clown before you get a chance to do something stupid."

She then began to turn away, but Bruce's hand on hers turned her back around. "There's something I want to tell you before we go."

"Okay," she replied, stepping just a bit closer to him.

"I've been thinking... about what happens when this is over. Where we'll go, what we'll do."

She couldn't deny that she loved the sound of the word "we" coming from his lips.

"I thought about your idea of a secluded island, and I got an idea. I wasn't sure about it at first, but I think you'll love it. I hope you'll love it."

She raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Don't keep me waiting - tell me."

He smiled a little bit and said after a brief pause, "I bought an island in the Bahamas."

She blinked. He watched carefully for her reaction, and at first she looked entirely dumbfounded. "You bought an island."

"Yeah."

"You... bought an island. Without talking to me first. Without even mentioning it. You just... bought an island."

She saw the first signs of worry and slight panic cross his face. "I... yeah. I thought -"

"- That I'd drop everything and follow you without a second thought?"

He opened his mouth but nothing came out for a moment. Finally he glanced down at the floor and muttered, "It's too much, isn't it."

"Yeah," she she answered, "it is. And it's perfect, so stop panicking."

His eyes snapped up to hers and relief quickly flooded his face. She smiled and took his face in her hands. "I had you going there, didn't I."

He laughed breathlessly and said, "Yeah, don't do that again."

She grinned and said, "One question, though - I know islands aren't cheap, and I've never asked how much your 'emergency fund' is, but... I'd sort of like to know now."

"It's about fifteen percent of what I was worth before," he replied with a small smile as she did the math in her head.

"So... I'm only guessing because I don't know what exactly your net worth was, but... two hundred-million? Somewhere around there?"

"Somewhere around there," he nodded.

She shook her head and grinned. "That's kind of disgusting."

"I have plans for it," he said.

"Of course you do," she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck. "So... an island in the Bahamas."

He nodded and wound his arms around her waist. "Yeah... it's very private. We can stay on a neighboring island while our house is being built."

"Our house," she repeated. "You do realize that this smacks of a pretty big commitment, right?"

"I'm in if you're in," he smiled, his fingers caressing her cheek.

She replied by kissing him softly, and though he responded warmly, when she pulled away he gently said, "I really look forward to the day you let yourself say what you're feeling, Selina."

She opened her mouth, taken aback a bit, but he placed a finger over her lips and added, "I'm not trying to push you. I don't want to do that. I know I've pushed you enough in the last few months and this... island, and house, is a big step for you. It is for me too. And I'm not the best at... expressing what I feel, either. But I know we'll get there."

He then kissed her gently, and afterwards he leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes soft as he murmured, "I love you."

Then he was gone, headed back down the hallway, and Selina stared at the empty space where he'd stood, replaying his words over in her head. The words blended with the images in her head of islands, houses, and everything that this commitment meant, and for just one split second, she felt her mostly tamed flight response kick in. However, it faded almost as soon as she recognized it, because after all this time and all they'd overcome, she knew there was no going back. She didn't want to go back, especially not when going forward now involved as much sandy beach and sun and _Bruce_ as she could handle.

And yet, this idyllic, beautiful existence that lay in front of her hung in the balance of today's events, and she knew it. Her gut clenched and turned with anxiety and unabashed fear, but then she imagined putting a bullet through the Joker's head, and it did wonders for her mood.

She squared her shoulders and left the bedroom. Five minutes later, she'd joined Bruce and Blake on their way to the Batcave.

* * *

Suiting up and preparing for the fight was surreal, almost like she was watching herself from some other, outward perspective like a spectator rather than herself. Selina armed herself with her usual two guns and the whip she'd grown fond of, and every time fear would begin to seep into her mind, she'd imagine the Joker's death and then replace the grisly image with one of herself lying on a beach with Bruce, and though it might have been considered an odd combination, the two images boosted her morale considerably.

Bruce was in full business mode with Alfred, talking with the older man in front of the computers and shrugging into his "costume" - a dark hoodie and his annoying Gotham Knights baseball cap, as well as some jeans that only Selina noticed were designer and not at all what the average citizen would be wearing, but she didn't mention it.

When the time came to leave and Blake went to jump inside the Tumbler, Selina looked Bruce's way across the cave and found him giving her a look that both worried and warmed her. Fear wasn't something she saw on his face often, and he was trying to hide it now, but she could see it behind his eyes and hiding in the tense way he held his jaw.

She began walking to him, and he met her halfway. She wrapped her arms around him and he held her tightly in return, and while Alfred politely ignored them and Blake did the same from the Tumbler, she listened as Bruce whispered into her ear.

"Be careful," he said, "don't do anything reckless. Don't turn off your comm. Stay in my sight. Don't -"

"Bruce," she smiled, pulling away and looking into his eyes, "I'm going to be fine. Really."

"I just -"

"I know," she nodded, kissing him gently. It lasted longer than it should have, but he didn't want to let go, and neither did she, so she let it go as long as it pleased.

When he did finally pull away, reluctantly, she said, "You're the one I'm worried about. I wish you'd stay here with Alfred."

"You know I need to do this," he said quietly, and she did know that. Bruce needed to be there when this ended, he needed the closure. She desperately hoped that he'd get it today.

"I know," she murmured before kissing him one last time. This time, however, she knew she had to let go, and after steeling herself once more, she gave Bruce a tight smile as she backed away from him.

He watched as she jumped into the passenger side of the Tumbler, and he only looked away when the hatch lowered and the engine hummed to life. He sighed and looked towards the still-politely turned away Alfred, who said as the Tumbler sped away, "I think, sir, that you can rest assured that Miss Kyle is very good at taking care of herself. The worry is only natural, but she's not..."

"Not Rachel," Bruce finished for Alfred.

Alfred turned and glanced at Bruce before nodding lightly. "Yes, sir."

"I know," Bruce said, pulling his hood over his hat. "But you know the Joker. He probably wants her dead more than anyone."

"Well, I'm sure she's still got a few of her nine lives left," Alfred replied as Bruce started heading towards the cave's exist.

"Sir?"

Bruce turned and looked upon his former butler. "Yeah?"

"Good luck."

Bruce nodded. He then turned once more and, in a few moments, was behind the wheel of Blake's car, headed to downtown Gotham.

* * *

It was a clear, warm afternoon in Gotham, and the interest surrounding the press conference at Wayne Enterprises was modest at best. Local news crews were there, of course, as well as a few national business news networks, but public turnout was small. This was a relief for the city's masked guardians who took their places in the shadows and waited for the event to begin, determined for this to be the end of the Joker's latest reign of chaos.

Blake, as Batman, had stashed the Tumbler out of sight and was with Selina in a neighboring building, watching over the scene on the ground. They'd had to take out a cop and one FBI agent to get to where they were, a result of the insane security surrounding the conference following Harley's tip off, but they'd anticipated worse.

Bruce was keeping his distance on the ground, communicating with them as to what he was seeing, which was a lot of nothing besides a cop car that contained a familiar head of blonde hair in the backseat that he assumed was Harley. Her presence was expected after the deal she'd cut, and he hoped that the cops were diligent in keeping her confined to the car in case she had a change of heart when it came to seeing the Joker get taken down.

When three o'clock arrived and the cameras and microphones were set up before a podium that sat on the edge of Wayne Enterprises' steps, Bruce joined the crowd that had increased somewhat in the last fifteen minutes and watched through the lenses of his sunglasses as things got underway.

"Any sign, Alfred?" he asked quietly as Lucius walked through the front door of the building.

"No, sir, all clear," Alfred replied.

"You know he's nearby somewhere," Selina said. "He has to be."

Lucius stepped up to the podium, Mayor Stephen Black behind him, and for a brief moment his eyes fell upon Bruce's disguised figure in the crowd, and though nobody else would have noticed, Lucius' expression grew sad for a moment before he spoke.

"Thank you all for coming out on this fine afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the press, citizens," Lucius nodded to the crowd. "Today, Mayor Black and I are pleased to unveil a new project that we have collaborated on for some time now..."

"Still clear, Alfred?" Bruce whispered.

"Still no sign of any clowns in the vicinity, sir," Alfred replied. "Or clowns disguised as somebody else."

Alfred was watching a combination of traffic cameras and satellite images as they watched with bated breath. The Mayor took the podium and spoke a bit, and after about ten uneventful moments in total had passed, attentions were turned to a display to the left of the speakers that was covered by a white sheet.

"Now here is the model of what will soon be Gotham's new and improved, state of the art railway," Lucius said, "and Mayor Black has the honor of getting to pull off the sheet."

The Mayor, an older but energetic gentlemen, grinned and walked the few steps to the display, and cameras flashed as he removed the sheet. Bruce's eyes narrowed, and several things then happened at once.

Instantly, everyone realized that what was supposed to be a model was anything but that - instead of a diagram of a city's transportation system, the sheet fell away to reveal wires and flashing lights surrounding what was undoubtedly a bomb. There were screams and the Mayor's security detail quickly converged on him as well as Lucius, Blake and Selina jumped from the window of the room they'd been watching from, and as Bruce's adrenaline began pumping, the bomb exploded.

Instead of fire and smoke, however, the air became full of little pieces of multicolored confetti. The crowd's panic briefly abated as they stared at the strange sight, but Bruce immediately knew what the point of the confetti bomb was - the Mayor and Lucius were completely hidden from view now, and when gunshots from behind the podium rang out moments later and panic was reborn, Bruce wasn't a bit surprised.

Quickly, however, the confetti floated to the ground, and as the podium became visible again, so did the Mayor and Lucius. This time, the Mayor was being held at gunpoint by the Joker, and Lucius was being held in the same way by one of many henchmen.

Selina and Blake hit the ground as the Joker leaned into the microphone and said, "Nobody move, or the Mayor gets a bullet in the head!"

Most of the crowd stopped, and the Joker's eyes fell upon the Batman. He grinned and said, "Well, _hello_ there - did I get the real Batman today or the fake one?"

"Let him go," Blake said, the device he wore over his throat causing his voice to sound nearly identical to Bruce's.

"And give up all my fun?" the Joker retorted. "I'll pass."

"There's nowhere for you to go," Blake said. "Snipers are on every roof ready to take you out the minute they get a clear shot."

"Oh, are they?" the Joker said, feigning surprise. "Well then, I guess it's a good thing I planned ahead. See, Mayor Brown - Green? oh, right, Black, Mayor Black - recently had a pacemaker put in. Didn't you, Mayor?" the Joker said, giving the Mayor a shake. "And it's not just any old pacemaker. It's the kind where if it stops, there's real fireworks."

Bruce immediately had flashbacks of how the Joker had blown up the MCU nine years ago, with a cell phone-bomb inside of a man's chest, and he glanced behind him to see Commissioner Gordon, his gun fixed on the Joker like the cops and agents all around him, bearing the same look of old horror that was hidden on Bruce's face.

"That's right, folks," the Joker grinned. "One shot to his head and Wayne Enterprises goes ka-boom. So - you might want to point those guns away now."

Then a very long-feeling moment passed where nothing happened, and Selina turned her eyes towards Bruce. Their eyes locked for the briefest of movements, but it was long enough for the Joker to notice.

Then a shot rang out from a nearby rooftop, and a bullet whizzed past the Joker's head. He didn't have time to react before another one grazed his ear, and as Gordon and the FBI's agent in charge yelled out opposing orders of holding fire and continuing the assault, the crowd started screaming again, and the Joker announced, "Well, have it your way then!"

He squeezed the trigger of his gun and emptied a single bullet into Mayor Black's temple. But as the fallen public official crumpled to the ground, nothing happened. Not a single explosion.

The Joker rolled his eyes and then produced a detonator from the inside of his coat pocket. "Can't trust technology these days, can we? Good thing I've always got a plan B."

Plan B, however, got knocked out of his hands and hit the ground by a finely thrown Batarang, and then battle commenced. Blake took on the Joker while Bruce urged Selina over comm to grab the detonator, and the authorities engaged in a firefight with the Joker's men. There were gunshots and screams and running bodies everywhere, and though he was in the middle of the action, Bruce suddenly felt every bit as useless as he did when he was stuck behind in the Batcave.

He moved to be closer to Blake and Selina, and his eyes took in the rapidly progressing fight as his instincts took over and he began guiding them, warning them of where the thugs were and where to throw the next punch when their blind spots were compromised. Then one of the Joker's men fired on Bruce, and he found himself in a fight of his own.

Bruce could hear Alfred's voice in his ear but registered none of his words as he easily fought the man off, incapacitating him with a kick to the gut and one good blow to the head, but when he turned back around, his eyes widened and time slowed down.

Selina was fighting two men, and Blake was still struggling against the Joker. Somehow, in the confusion of the fight, Selina and the Joker had ended up back-to-back, and though Bruce was now nearly screaming at her to move away from him, she didn't hear him.

One of the Joker's men came up from behind Blake and dragged him back with a rifle digging into the front of his neck. As the Joker enjoyed his brief reprieve, he glanced around him and saw Selina only inches behind him, breaking the arm of one of his men, and he raised an eyebrow as he glanced directly at Bruce through the crowd.

Bruce never knew if he screamed, yelled, or did anything at all in that horrifying moment. All he knew was that he was forced to watch and run in what felt like slow motion as the Joker whipped out a knife and grinned as he stuck it deep into Selina's back.

She froze, and her face became confused for a moment before her mouth dropped open and shock set in. Her wide eyes met Bruce's as he ran to her, and she stumbled to the ground just as he reached her, while Blake disposed of the other men and tackled the Joker. Bruce took her in his arms and cradled her gently, his face distorted in horror and eyes full of terror as he removed the knife from her body and dropped it.

"Selina," he said in a voice so strained and broken that it sounded foreign to his own ears, removing her mask due to her strained breathing and cradling her head in his hands. "Selina..."

"I'm - I'm fine," she said, though her body was shaking violently and Bruce's arms were quickly being covered in her blood. "I'm fine."

Her eyes met his but they were unfocused, and Bruce could see how scared she really was, and yet his fear in this moment was more paralyzing than hers could have ever been. He barely felt the tears that were streaming down his cheeks but she took note of them, and one of her shaky hands reached up to wipe them away.

"You're going to be okay," Bruce said, trying to believe his own words but unsure if he could. Her wound could either be terrible or she could hang on long enough for Leslie to fix her - he simply didn't know.

"Bruce," she said softly as her hand lingered on his cheek, "I -"

"Shh," he said gently, "save your strength -"

She shook her head surprisingly fiercely, then sucked in a deep breath before saying, "I love you."

His heart thudded and nearly came to a standstill, and a fresh wave of tears spilled from his eyes just before hers closed and she went limp in his arms.

His heart had been ripped out and torn to shreds twice before in his life, and now he felt it happening for a third time. He didn't notice that Selina's chest was still rising and falling just barely, because as his world crashed down around him in spectacularly horrific flames, a taunting voice that belonged to the man who'd spilled the blood of the only two women Bruce had ever loved cut through the haze and the agony and straight into Bruce's ears.

"Well, isn't this touching..."

Bruce continued to stare down at the woman in his arms, still crying and gasping for air that wouldn't come to his pained lungs, but the Joker's voice awakened something deep and terrible from within Bruce. Something that Bruce knew he couldn't, and didn't want to, control anymore.

"But look on the bright side, Brucie... now it's just you and me. It's our destiny, remember?"

Then he laughed.

Rage bubbled up in Bruce's veins, fueled by his nearly incapacitating pain and grief, and he clenched his jaw tightly. The hand that was underneath Selina's bleeding back brushed against something hard, and he knew what it was as soon as he touched it.

He placed his hand over Selina's gun and let his fingers enclose around it, letting the rage do his thinking and ignoring the instinct to throw the gun as far away from him as possible. The detonator was next to the gun, but Bruce didn't give it much thought in that moment.

Then the Joker's voice was amplified. He was speaking into the microphone again. "I almost forgot - I have some _information_ about the Batman that I promised I'd tell everyone today. Yeah, so, it turns out... that _this_ Batman, the one getting the crap beat out of him by my men right now, is - big shocker - not the real Batman! And the real one is alive... and I think it's time everyone knows what his name is."

Bruce gently laid Selina down and didn't think twice, nor even once, about his next course of action.

He'd finally broke. After everything he'd survived, everything that had been taken from him, and the deaths that he'd suffered the pain and trauma of, someone had finally succeeded in pushing him off the edge.

He saw Rachel's face. The faces of the several hundred orphans that had been murdered only weeks ago. All of the souls this single man had taken for no reason. Everything he'd ruined. Everything, and everyone, he'd destroyed.

_Selina_.

Alfred was now shouting in Bruce's ear. Bruce reached up and plucked out his earpiece and tossed it away.

He then whipped around, Selina's gun firmly in his hand and his finger on the trigger. Despite the chaos of the world around him, the sound of deafening silence hung in the air for one split second just before it was shattered by the bang of a gunshot through the air.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Thank you so much everyone for your reviews and the fact that nobody threw rotten food at me for the cliffhanger I left you guys with :D not going to ramble too long here, but I want to thank GrizzlyBear and Leyton4ever22 in particular for your kind words :D and just all of you. You're all the best! And my usual thanks to midnightwings96 for her fabulous help and ideas :D shutting up now, on with the story!**

Bruce now knew what it would have felt like had he pulled the trigger on Joe Chill all those years ago. He now knew vengeance, retribution, the way your hand felt when it fired a gunshot that struck your most hated enemy. He'd become what he'd tried so hard not to, but he didn't care any more. The line was crossed and he wouldn't have been able to step back over it even if he'd wanted to**. **

And the Joker had the audacity to laugh about it.

The clown lay on the ground as the hole in his right leg bled through his purple suit and on to the concrete, giggling as he watched Bruce advance on him. "I didn't think you had it in you, Batsy."

Bruce clenched his jaw and shot the Joker again, this time in his left leg, just above the kneecap. The Joker laughed again, in between gasps of pain, and it only further fueled Bruce's rage. Through the rage, though, something else emerged, something more disturbing - Bruce found himself enjoying every second of pain that he was causing the Joker to feel. He wanted to cause more, to extract every last ounce of misery and agony he could before he finally ended the man's life.

Blake, who'd just managed to beat off the men who'd been trying to kill him a moment ago, came running towards Bruce, yelling his name and urging him to stop. Bruce ignored him until the younger man's hand grabbed on to his arm - at that point, he pistol-whipped Blake and knocked him down.

Bruce turned back to the Joker and got down on his knees, grabbing the Joker by his hair and pressing the barrel of the gun into his right shoulder. Bruce's entire body was shaking but his grip on the gun was steady, and his eyes were blazing as he glared into the Joker's own eyes. Distantly, he heard a girl hysterically screaming over the noises of the fights that were still raging all around him and concealing both him and the Joker from the authorities, but he paid no mind to it.

"Go on, shoot me some more," the Joker taunted. "Do it."

Bruce dug the gun into the same part of his shoulder that he'd shot Selina in, and pulled the trigger again.

Meanwhile, Blake tore his eyes away from watching the complete breakdown of his hero and ran to Selina, lifting her up in his arms and quickly taking notice of the fact that she was still breathing.

"Alfred - Alfred, she's breathing," Blake said, shifting her and chancing a look at her knife wound. She'd lost a lot of blood, but the flow had calmed some, and now Blake went about trying to wake her.

He shook her gently, tapped and then slapped her face, yelled her name in her face, and begged her to wake up to stop Bruce from going so far off the deep end that he'd never find his way back.

"_Selina_!" he finally half-screamed when none of it worked, and to his shock, her eyes fluttered open.

Only feet away, Bruce could now hear the hysterical feminine screaming very clearly, and as he pressed the gun into the Joker's left arm, the shrieking voice finally got his full attention.

"Stop it! Stop it or I'll blow up the building!"

Bruce glanced up and to his right to see Harley Quinn, who'd apparently escaped from her policeman babysitters in the chaos and was now holding the detonator in her right hand, staring down at her former lover with a look of horror on her young face.

Bruce didn't even blink as he pointed the gun at Harley and fired, shooting straight through her hand and taking off a couple of fingers as well as knocking the detonator to the ground. He ignored her high-pitched, panicked screams of pain and pointed the gun back towards the Joker's left shoulder and fired again.

Bruce then tightened his grip on the clown's hair and pressed the gun between his eyes, his body shaking worse than ever now and sweat dripping down his brow, mixing with tears that were still falling, and the Joker croaked through the astounding amount of pain he was in, "I always knew I'd be the one to break you."

"You've taken everything from me," Bruce growled in a broken voice that trembled with the emotions underneath it, "twice."

"I've taken away your distractions," the Joker smiled. "We both know that this is who you really are. Do it. Pull the trigger. Kill me."

"I'm going to," Bruce rasped, his finger tight on the trigger, but then there was a hand on his arm. He was going to slap the hand away until a soft, trembling voice said, "Bruce, stop. You won't come back from this if you don't."

His eyes widened and he whipped his head around to see Selina, alive but pale and struggling to breathe, crouching behind him and gripping his arm tightly. "Selina?"

She stared into his eyes intently, and his face broke into a sudden mix of relief, joy, and lingering rage. "I - I thought -"

She shook her head. "I passed out, Bruce, I didn't die. Let him go."

After staring into Selina's face and soaking up the fact of her being alive and speaking and touching him, barely able to believe his eyes, he glanced back to the Joker, whose own blood loss was starting to get to him as his consciousness began to fade.

Then a hand came down on top of Bruce's and pushed the gun down from the Joker's head. Bruce looked up to see Gordon, kneeling in front of him, a gentle but slightly horrified look on his lined face as he said, "I've got it from here, Bruce. You've got about one minute to get the hell out of here before twenty cops and agents arrest you and never let you see the light of day. Go."

Bruce stared at the older man for a moment before his brain finally began showing signs of functioning again, and he nodded to the commissioner before turning around, sweeping Selina up in his arms and rising to his feet. He stashed the gun in his waistband to make sure it stayed with them and didn't get left behind, though his hatred of the thing was coming back five times stronger than ever before now that the realization of what he'd done began to hit him.

Blake handed Bruce his grapple gun, and within seconds he was swinging through the air with Selina in his arms, the only thing on his mind getting her to Leslie as soon as possible.

For now, he was able to leave behind the damage he'd done, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to outrun it for long.

* * *

Blake arrived at the clinic just as Leslie took Selina to a back room to treat her, and as he pulled off the cowl and approached Bruce in one of the clinic's hallways, he wasn't quite sure what to say after what he'd witnessed back at the press conference.

"Bruce..."

Bruce held up one hand to Blake and held the other to his mouth in a fist, he eyes squinting towards the floor. Taking a chance, Blake took a step forward and said, "Hey..."

But Bruce quickly spun around and stumbled down the hallway, hunching over the first trash can he saw and throwing up violently into it. Blake watched helplessly, at a loss for what he could do that could possibly help.

After ejecting every bit of content from his stomach and then some, Bruce sank down to the floor and gasped in heavy breaths, taking his face into his hands and letting emotion overcome him once more as he cried. This time he cried for Selina as much as himself, for what he'd done and what he almost did, for losing it and picking up a weapon that he'd spent his life hating with every fiber of his being and firing it five times on two people. He replayed watching Selina fall, bleeding and terrified, so nearly another victim of the Joker, and that unspeakable feeling of thinking that she'd been ripped away from him the same way Rachel had.

He replayed every gunshot, the way he'd pumped the Joker full of bullets and held the barrel if the gun directly against the clown's body, and how he hadn't even paused or thought twice about it in his rage. Knowing what he would have done if Selina hadn't stopped him, how he'd come so close to becoming the kind of monster he'd sacrificed so much to spend his life fighting against in Gotham, it all was too much, so he let himself break again.

The tears and heaving breaths were getting to the point of physical pain when Bruce felt a hand on his shoulder, and in his current state, he couldn't respond to it one way or the other. One of his hands moved from his face up to the top of his head, where it gripped his hair as he tried to get a hold on himself.

When he'd calmed down finally by a fraction, the hand left his shoulder and he opened his eyes to see Blake sit down across from him, leaning back against the wall and looking at him with concerned but calm eyes. Bruce sucked in a deep breath and exhaled hard, closing his eyes and willing himself to get it together.

"It's okay to fall apart," Blake said gently. "You've earned the right to lose it."

Bruce shook his head and kept his eyes to the floor. "I never meant to do what I did. I never... God, I shot Harley's hand half off..."

"She was about to blow up your company and everyone in it."

"It doesn't matter," Bruce said, looking down at his hands.

"Yeah it does," Blake argued. "You didn't kill anybody, Bruce. So you picked up a gun and fired it a few times. You thought you'd just watched him kill the woman you loved for a second time. You're human, Bruce, and you did what anybody in your shoes would have done."

Bruce glanced up at the younger man and saw the beginnings of what would undoubtedly be a nasty bruise on his jaw from where Bruce had whacked him with Selina's gun, and his shame deepened. He pulled out the gun from his waistband and handed it to Blake, muttering, "Please take this."

Blake took the gun and they sat in silence, Bruce finally breathing normally and regaining his grip on himself, and after a few moments, Blake said, "I realized something today."

Bruce looked up to him and listened as he continued, "I'm not you. I'm never going to be you, as much as I wanted to be and thought I could be. This," he said, gesturing to the armor he still wore, "it feels like a costume. Cowl's even worse. And the damn voice device..."

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows slightly and said, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that this is the last time I put on this suit and pretend to be Batman."

As scrambled as his brain already felt, Bruce was having difficulty processing this. "John, Gotham needs a protector, and I'm not going to be here to -"

"I know," Blake said, "and I'm going to protect it. I just think I'm done pretending to be you."

Bruce paused and took note of the seriousness in Blake's eyes. Then the younger man said, "When I was a kid, my dad used to read me this story when he put me to bed. It was a cheesy superhero story, only like fifteen pages long, but I loved it and I made him read it to me every night. The hero's name was Superkid - like I said, cheesy - and he grew up idolizing another hero and tried to be just like him. Dressed like him, fought like him. But he realized at the end of the story that he had his own skills and his own powers, and that it was okay to be different. One line always stuck with me - 'he came into his own, standing against darkness and standing with the light, protecting the city and bringing hope as he rode on the wings of the night'." Blake paused at this, and then added, "I know it's cheesy. But I've sort of become that kid."

"If you need to carve out your own identity," Bruce said quietly, "then you should. This city's yours now. When Selina and I leave, I'm not coming back. After today," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat, "after today, I can't come back again. I won't."

"It's your legacy, though," Blake said. "Don't you want someone to carry it on?"

Bruce paused and then said, "No matter what name you give yourself or what kind of suit you wear, if you're out there every night fighting for Gotham and giving people something to believe in, that's my legacy."

Blake nodded after considering Bruce's words, and then footsteps clicking down the hall got their attentions.

Both men got to their feet as Leslie approached them, her expression tired but not grim. "Good news," she said to Bruce. "Besides a collapsed lung and the blood loss, Selina's fine. I reinflated the lung and she's on her second transfusion right now. She's exhausted but she won't let herself rest until she sees you, but please make it quick - she really needs the rest."

Bruce thanked Leslie and was in Selina's room faster than was nearly believable, and when he walked inside and found her lying in bed, hooked to two different contraptions and still as pale as a ghost, his heart thudded with anger again at what had been done to her right before his eyes and the pain that she'd had to endure because of him, first the gunshot, and now this.

She opened her eyes and her lips curved into a weak smile. "Finally. I thought Leslie was about to tranq me just to shut me up from asking for you."

Bruce walked to her bedside and immediately leaned over her, being careful not to disturb her IVs as he gently touched her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead and closing his eyes as he vowed inwardly to never let her feel another ounce of pain for the rest of her life.

When he pulled away and sat down on the stool beside her bed, holding one of her hands in both of his and fighting another round of tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes, she asked in a steady but weak voice, "Are you okay?"

He looked at her for a moment before shaking his head. She closed her eyes briefly and shifted in the bed with some effort, lifting her hand that he wasn't holding to his face and holding it gently. "Bruce..."

"Don't try to tell me it's okay," Bruce whispered.

"I'm not," Selina replied, her thumb wiping away a tear that fell from his eye. "I know it's not okay. But we're alive. And he's never going to see the light of day again. You're free, Bruce."

He shook his head, but she was insistent. "You are free," she said. "We'll leave Gotham and never look back."

He clutched her hand tighter and said, "Thank you for stopping me."

She didn't answer, simply looking into his eyes and trying to stay conscious despite the many painkillers Leslie had given her, and running her thumb along his jaw. He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand before murmuring, "I swear I'll never let you get hurt again."

She smiled slightly, her fingers finding his hair and running through a few pieces at his temple. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I'm not," Bruce insisted. "I mean it."

"Okay," she relented, knowing that he couldn't control whatever pain that life may throw at them in the future, but also knowing that he'd surely try his damnedest to. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as you're strong enough," Bruce replied, watching her as she nodded and her heavy eyes started to close.

Her eyes reopened when she felt his body next to hers in the small bed, and she exhaled deeply when his arms wrapped around her, mindful of her IVs, and cradled her close to his chest.

"I didn't say it because I thought I was dying," she said, her voice thick with the sleep that was coming on. "I do love you. I'm sorry that it took me so long to say it."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Bruce murmured, holding her closer and fighting off another wave of emotion that threatened to break over him.

"Neither do you," Selina said before sleep overtook her.

He didn't believe her, but he hoped someday he would.

Bruce held her until she awoke many hours later, despite Leslie's protests, not sleeping a wink himself but instead thinking a mile a minute, trying to reconcile what he'd done with who he was and what he believed in. He didn't come any closer to a resolution but there was one thing he did know beyond a shadow of a doubt - he was finally done with Gotham, and when they left it, he'd make sure they never came back again.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: thanks as always for all of your fabulous reviews! I love you all more and more as time goes on :D so after this chapter, there will be one more chapter and an epilogue. Then it's on to the sequel! So put me on alert if you want to read where the story goes from here :D and thanks as always to midnightwings96, without whom this story would suck and probably be incredibly boring and blah. She's amazing! :D**

It was in the dark of a late night when Harley Quinn stood outside of her old place of employment, drenched in the falling rain and looking around cautiously as she took in the sight of the gothic-inspired Arkham Asylum and all of the memories that surrounded the aged building.

It was the place that she'd fallen in love for the first time, and the place that she'd left her old identity behind and fashioned a new one, her current one. Arkham, for her, had marked the death of her old life and the birth of a new one, and now she was back to reclaim what was, in her mind, rightfully and only hers.

She knew the building like the back of her hand, and she knew where and how to get in undetected. She also knew where to go to find him, since there were only a handful of rooms equipped to handle a badly injured patient and they were all clustered together in the highest-security wing of the facility, on the highest floor. She knew where the guards would be posted, and taking them out wouldn't be much harder than it had been last year, when she'd broken out the same man she was planning on springing tonight. The only difference was, back then she'd had two fully functioning hands, not one.

All she had left of her right hand was her pinky finger and half of a ring finger, but it hadn't stopped her from slipping away undetected from Gotham General after they'd done what they could for the injury. She knew that she was violating the terms of her immunity agreement with the government by not checking back into the inpatient psychiatric treatment she'd had to agree to in lieu of prison time, but none of that mattered anymore.

She glanced down at her heavily bandaged right hand before loping around the building, heading towards a little-used exit in the back that was used mostly by workers on smoke breaks and often left unlocked at this time of night. Something had changed in that moment from a few days ago, when Bruce Wayne had pulled the trigger on her without so much as blinking, then went on to shoot the man that she still loved in front of her. She felt clearer now, not muddled by the words of Selina Kyle or the therapists she'd been seeing any longer. She had purpose again, and she had no doubt as to what that purpose was.

One of the Joker's old knives was clutched in her left hand, one of his favorites that he'd used to kill quite a few people, and she used it first when she slipped inside of the building and took out the first guard she came across with one stab to his brain stem. She moved with startling precision and zero emotion, doing what she had to do and barely thinking about it, her mind fixed entirely on its goal of reaching the man she'd came for.

She reached the top floor after leaving a trail of dead behind her and adding to the count just as she reached the doors of the supposedly "maximum security" wing that the Joker was in, and after disposing of the armed guards and nicking one of their guns for good measure, Harley entered the wing and stepped slowly down the halls until she reached the only occupied room.

The hall was brightly lit and bare, smelling of disinfectant and cold, and she glanced up at the tiny black cameras that lined the ceiling and smirked as she shot the Joker's door open. She hadn't disabled the cameras because she wanted the world to know who it had been who'd broken the Joker out, and who would have his love in the end as they wreaked havoc on the world together.

It was simply destiny, she thought as the door swung open and she stepped inside. The room looked like a standard hospital room, full of monitors and medical equipment, but there were no windows and the walls were soft. Her eyes fell upon the man that lay in the bed at the room's center, and her heart thudded as she walked to him.

She thought he was asleep from the way his eyes were closed, but his voice told her otherwise. "So _predictable_."

"Mister J," she whispered, tossing aside the gun in her hand and rushing to his side. She looked down at his bandaged limbs and standard hospital gown-covered body, then looked at his scarred, mostly makeup-free face as his eyes slowly opened and looked upon her. "We gotta go. We don't have a lot of time."

He chuckled, closing his eyes. "Right. You think I'm going to let you break me out of here."

She furrowed her brows. "Well - aren't you?"

"Let me give you some advice, _sweetheart_," he said, wincing as he tried to sit up in the bed. "A good joke is never predictable. If they already know the punchline, there's no point in the joke. And you have become the most predictable joke of them all."

"But... I... would you please just come with me before they find us?" she asked desperately.

The Joker rolled his eyes. "You'll never get it, will you, Harley?"

"Please, Mister J, just..."

One of his hands shot out and grabbed Harley by her chin and yanked her down in front of his face. "_Stop_ calling me that."

"Okay, fine!" she replied, her voice trembling. "Just please come with me."

"Why would I want to go anywhere with you?" he asked, his fingers digging into her face and causing a good deal of pain that she tried to hide. "You ratted me out. Ruined my plans."

"No - no, I just -"

"Don't lie to me," he seethed, his hand leaving her face to wrap around her throat. "You've always been a terrible liar. You're terrible at a lot of things, you know that?"

She said nothing as she struggled to breathe and stared into the dark eyes of the madman in front of her.

"You're useless... I have no use for you anymore. So why don't you go run along back to your little _therapist_ and cry about what a big _meanie_ I am and how I made you kill all those poor guards tonight. Because we both know you're not cut out for this. Or cut out for _me_."

Then he released his grip on her and she staggered back, gasping for air. She held on to her throat with her good hand and stared incredulously at the man she loved, feeling that newfound clarity split apart into a thousand pieces of chaos within her heart and mind. On some level, she might have realized that the clarity had never been anything more than insanity, but it didn't matter now. It was gone, replaced with something worse.

"I gave up everything for you," she croaked. "My life. My career. My family... I've killed so many people for you. I've... I've given you everything."

"Well, your everything's not good enough then, is it, dollface?" he retorted, settling in the bed and closing his eyes.

She stared at him, still holding her throat, and then one of his eyes popped open and glanced at her. "But that's not to say I'd be against a quickie before you go get arrested and get thrown into a cell of your own. Whaddya say, beautiful?"

His eyebrows waggled at her as he laughed, and something inside of her snapped.

She'd never been anything more to him than a "quickie", a tool that he used when he felt like it, a fool that he'd strung along and despised the whole way, something he'd taken and shattered into so many pieces so many times that she didn't know how she was still even breathing.

He'd been the death of her, of the person she used to be and everything she could have been.

His old knife was out of her pocket and clutched in her hand before she had the chance to realize it. Then it was at his throat, grazing the skin over his carotid artery, and he laughed harder. "What do you think you're going to do, kill me?"

The way he said it, she could almost believe that he wanted her to kill him.

"Go ahead, try it. We both know you're too pathetic to do it."

Her hand shook and her eyes were hard, but nothing happened. He raised one eyebrow and said, "That's what I thought. _Pathetic_."

Then he closed his eyes, as if he were falling back asleep, not even caring about the knife that was still against his throat. She went numb.

A split second later, his eyes flew open in shock. The artery was severed and blood was erupting from his neck by the pint, spilling over his body and filling the bed while also spraying Harley's face, hair and chest.

His eyes met those of the girl that he'd underestimated, and as his skin turned to ash-white and the life left his body, his eyes became fixed in an unseeing stare and his last breath evaporated from his lungs.

Harley stared at him for a long time before her eyes suddenly widened and she dropped the knife, letting out a scream and grabbing the Joker's body. She ended up in the bed, cradling his body in her lap and crying hysterically, moaning apologies and holding his limp head against her chest, in shock of what she'd done and clinging to him as tightly as she could.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that, and she didn't care that her tears were mixing with his blood on her face and dripping into her open mouth, or that she she could now hear what sounded like a SWAT team barreling down the hallway outside of the room. Nothing mattered anymore, and nothing ever would again.

The sounds in the hall were getting closer. She looked down and saw the knife lying on her leg, and she reached down her left hand to pick it up while still holding the Joker's head against her chest with her mangled right hand. She was out of options, and even if she'd had some left, her choice would have still been clear, she thought as she held the knife to her own throat, an odd sense of peace flooded through her agonized and hurting mind.

She pressed a kiss to the top of the Joker's head and said shakily, "Maybe now we'll finally get to be together."

Then she slit her throat, in the same place she'd cut the Joker's, and the door blew open as her blood left her body in a gurgling rush, covering herself as well as the man that she refused to let go of as she paled and faded the same way he had.

She died with her head slumped down and eyes open in an eternal gaze upon the man she'd loved beyond even her own understanding, and though she knew nobody would understand her or the many terrible things she'd done in her lifetime for him, that didn't matter, because now they were free.

* * *

Selina had been released by Leslie earlier that day and had been asleep since 7 PM, mostly due to painkillers and partially also due to lingering exhaustion from her ordeal, but Bruce was wide awake. In fact, he hadn't slept more than two hours at a time since four days earlier, when he'd shot the Joker, and tonight he was pacing the apartment restlessly, trying to find something to do to take his mind off of things but finding nothing.

Eventually Bruce settled for the television in the living room, but as soon as he turned it on there was a knock at the door.

It was nearly one in the morning, and even if it hadn't have been that late, the list of people who could be knocking on Blake's door was extremely short. Bruce got up and looked out the peephole in the front door to see Gordon waiting impatiently on the other side.

Bruce quickly opened the door, thinking this couldn't possibly be anything good.

Gordon nodded. "Sorry about the hour, but there's something you need to know about."

Bruce nodded. "Come in."

As soon as the door was closed behind him, Gordon turned to Bruce and said, "I came here from Arkham. The Joker's been killed."

Bruce blinked.

"I'm telling you this because the scene won't be touched for another hour. I thought you might need some type of... closure."

Bruce opened his mouth and closed it before he finally spoke. "Who...?"

"It looks like Harley Quinn did it," Gordon replied. "Murder-suicide."

Bruce stared at the older man, who then added, "I just wanted to let you know. And give you the option of seeing it if you wanted. Although if you do, I'd suggest a disguise."

Bruce nodded, and Gordon gave him a brief pat on the shoulder.

"You okay, son?"

Bruce nodded again. "I'm fine."

Anyone could have seen he was lying, but Gordon wasn't here to challenge him. "All right. I've got to get back."

Bruce nodded another time as he watched the Commissioner walk out the door, his head spinning from the idea that his oldest, worst enemy could actually be gone for good. He didn't debate for long on what to do next.

* * *

As strange as it was to put on the Batsuit again, it was even stranger knowing that this was unquestionably the last time he ever would wear it again. Bruce took the Batpod to Arkham Asylum, though he stayed out of sight for the most part, taking backroads and avoiding attention as he made the short journey.

When he arrived, he found the building swarmed by authorities, but as with all major establishments in Gotham, he knew a way inside that bypassed nearly all of the cops. When he appeared in the room that the crime scene was in, he found Gordon in there alone, besides one photographer that the Commissioner quickly dismissed.

"I can only give you a few minutes," Gordon said, watching Bruce's masked eyes fall on the grisly scene at the center of the room.

"I won't need any more than that," Bruce replied, not bothering to disguise his voice.

Gordon nodded and only hesitated a moment before stepping out of the room and leaving Bruce alone to take in the sight of his enemy's fate as he lay dead before him.

As Bruce stepped closer to the bed at the center of the room, he was struck by the horror and strangeness of it all - the way that Harley was holding the Joker, whose face was the cleanest Bruce had ever seen it despite Harley's blood stained on his skin, and the way that the Joker seemed to be clinging to her. For the first time, Bruce thought that the Joker actually resembled something similar to a human being.

But he hadn't been truly human, and Bruce knew that better than anyone. He had been a monster, one of the worst that American history would tell the story of, and upon closer inspection of Harley, the signs were evident even now.

Bruises were visible on her chin and throat through the spattering of blood there, and by their coloring he knew they were new. He knew that she'd slaughtered more than fifteen men to get to this room, and he didn't believe for one moment that she'd done that just to get here and then slit both of their throats. Only a few days earlier, she'd been willing to blow up hundreds of people to spare the Joker's life - whatever had caused her to do this, it hadn't been something premeditated.

It seemed fitting that the Joker would be found dead in a pool of his own blood mixed with that of another, after all of the blood that had been shed at his insane hand. And yet Bruce could still scarcely believe that the man was truly dead.

As he looked into the unseeing eyes of the Joker and stared at the face that had been hidden under all of the war paint for so long, a thought struck Bruce - the Joker once had a real name. He'd once been a child. He'd once been innocent. He'd started out in life the way anybody did, the way Bruce had - what in the world had made this man the person that he'd became?

The answer, however, was painfully obvious to Bruce once he allowed himself to realize it. Only a few days prior, Bruce had nearly become something terrible himself. He knew now how truly thin the line was between him and the Joker, and how one split second decision can make all the difference and instantly, irrevocably, change someone forever.

Every monster had an origin. Nobody was born that way. And Bruce would never know what had made the Joker the killer that he'd become - the slaughterer of hundreds of orphans, countless other innocents including Rachel, and very nearly Selina. His legacy was bloody and terrible, but now it was over.

Soon Bruce heard soft footsteps behind him, and after that came Gordon's voice. "I've stalled as long as I can."

Bruce nodded, pausing for a moment before he turned to Gordon. "Thank you."

Gordon knew that Bruce's thanks spanned far more than today, and perhaps spanned their entire relationship. The older man nodded. "You're welcome."

The door opened and a team of forensic specialists walked inside. When Gordon turned back around, Bruce - Batman - was gone.

Gordon hid a smirk, wondering how Bruce managed it this time without any windows or other obvious means of disappearing.

* * *

When Bruce returned to the Batcave, he instantly knew that Blake was there. He walked into the main area of the cave and pulled the cowl from his head, finding Blake sitting down welding something behind the computers at a work station, wearing an armored suit that Bruce had never seen before that appeared to have a trace of blue on it.

Blake seemed to be deep in concentration, so when he ceased welding the object that he was now holding up in front of his eyes and inspecting, Bruce took the opportunity to say, "Black and blue?"

Blake jumped and threw the thing up into the air, making an embarrassingly high-pitched startled noise for good measure. When the brief terrifying moment was over, Blake turned around in his chair and glared daggers at Bruce, who was trying not to laugh.

"That's great, Bruce," he muttered. "Real great."

Blake reached down to pick up what he dropped but Bruce grabbed it first and looked it over. He then held it up with a slightly raised eyebrow. "You call this a mask?"

Blake snatched it back. It was a mask large enough to only cover his eyes, shaped in the same menacing way that Bruce's mask was and very lightweight, extending out at the edges to give a jagged silhouette."It's not finished. It'll have night vision and it'll work fine. And I won't have to deal with Bat-head when I get home."

Blake glanced up at Bruce's hair pointedly, and Bruce narrowed his eyes and ran a hand through his admittedly now-flat hair. "Where were you, anyway?" Blake asked.

Bruce paused and looked down as he muttered, "Finding closure."

"Gordon let you in the crime scene?" Blake asked. "I saw what happened on the news before I came here."

Bruce nodded. "Yeah."

"Who did it? All I know is that he's dead."

"Harley," Bruce replied.

Blake furrowed his brows. "Harley? But why?"

"I have a theory," Bruce said, "but we'll know for sure when they pull security footage."

"Well," Blake shrugged, "either way, thank God the son of a bitch is dead."

"Yeah," Bruce muttered, sinking down into a chair beside Blake's and tossing the cowl on the table next to Blake's unfinished mask.

"You don't seem relieved."

Bruce gave a slight shrug. "I'm relieved that he's gone. I am. But I went there expecting myself to just allow my hatred of him to consume me and instead I felt... I don't know."

"Angry?" Blake guessed.

Bruce shook his head. "No. Just different."

Blake paused, then ventured, "Free?"

Bruce thought about this for a moment. "Maybe."

"Good."

Bruce looked the younger man over, taking note of the new suit he'd fashioned for himself - it was similar to the body of the Batsuit overall but the part that stood out was a large dark blue stripe that extended down from each shoulder and met in the middle of his chest. "What's Gotham going to call you?"

"Nightwing," Blake answered.

Bruce nodded, understanding the origin of the name from the story Blake had told him a few days ago. "Just don't make the same mistakes I made. You can be more effective and keep Gotham safer than I ever did if you learn from everything I did wrong."

"I don't know about that," Blake muttered.

"I'm serious," Bruce replied, pausing for a moment before adding, "And don't sacrifice your happiness for this. Don't let this be the only thing you have in life. Because you'll end up with nothing before you know it."

"I want to tell Raven," Blake said. "I think she might already know."

"I won't tell you not to," Bruce said. "But you might want to consider a better mask to make sure nobody recognizes you and she stays safe. Even if your hair has to suffer."

Blake fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Nobody's going to recognize me. I do have a question, though. When you leave, is that it? Are you going to disappear and this next week will be the last I ever hear from you?"

Bruce shook his head. "You're the closest thing to a friend I've made since college, so no, I'm sure we'll cross paths."

"And Selina? You think that's forever?" Blake asked this with a slight grin.

"I'd say I've got a good chance if I haven't scared her off yet," Bruce replied with a small smile.

"More like her scare you off," Blake chuckled.

Bruce gave a slight roll of his eyes, and the more he thought about Selina, the more he wanted to get back to Blake's apartment and spend the rest of the night holding her close.

"I hope you're able to let go of everything that's happened," Blake said a bit more quietly.

"I hope so too," Bruce replied. "And speaking of that... try to always remember that you're John Blake first and Nightwing second."

"I'm probably too much like you to figure out how to do that," Blake replied.

"I hope not."

* * *

After taking off his armor and leaving it behind at the Batcave for what he knew would be the last time, Bruce returned to Blake's apartment and was pleased to find that Selina was still sound asleep in bed and hadn't woken to notice his absence. He tried not to wake her when he crawled into bed beside her, but she stirred and opened her eyes as soon as his body was next to hers.

She winced as she shifted, trying to turn over to face him but finding it hard to do with the pain in her back, so he quickly wrapped his arms around her and helped her, pulling her to him.

"You're just now getting to bed?" she asked sleepily.

He nodded, holding her close. "Yeah."

She looked at him and then narrowed her eyes just slightly as she said, "You look different."

Bruce paused and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before saying, "The Joker's dead."

Her eyes widened a little bit. "Oh - how?"

"Harley," he replied. "She's dead too. Gordon says it was a murder-suicide."

Selina was silent for a moment as she processed this. Then she said quietly, "So it's over."

He nodded. "It's over."

She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. She felt as if she'd been holding it in for months, and now that it was out, she could breathe again. Then she opened her eyes and kissed Bruce gently.

He turned a gentle kiss into a deep one, and her fingers hung on to the ends of his long hair as she lost her breath to him. Her head was hazy from drugs still and she felt sleep trying to edge it's way back to her, but she didn't dare break away until he did.

When his lips left hers he smiled and looked into her eyes, murmuring, "Go back to sleep. The sooner you're better the sooner we're out of here."

She smiled and gave him one more small kiss before letting her eyes close once more. She was asleep within a moment, and after watching her for a moment, Bruce closed his eyes and, for the first time in days, fell asleep and stayed asleep.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: last chapter before the epilogue! So many thanks to everyone who's followed this story from the beginning, or picked it up in the middle, or just found it yesterday - you guys are amazing. Extra thanks to everyone who's taken the time to review, it makes my day, you just don't even know :D a few words about the sequel, since some of you have asked - it's going to be centered on Bruce & Selina, but also feature the whole Bat-family, including my little OC Raven, who I didn't get to use a lot here. It'll span years of their lives, so it might end up being quite long. I'm going to start it as soon as I'm done writing the epilogue for this, so I'm excited :p the story will be a bit laid back, however, and updates might not come as fast as they usually have for this, but it shouldn't be more than a week between updates. Anyway, once again, I love you guys dearly - and I hope the ending doesn't disappoint! :D Oh, and my usual thanks to midnightwings96 - her amazing ideas and help totally MADE this story, and I bow to her :D **

When rays of sunlight filtering through the blinds on a Monday morning one week after the Joker's death awoke Selina from a blissfully good night of dreamless sleep, there were two things she knew for sure - physically, she'd officially turned a corner and no longer felt like she was being freshly stabbed in the back when she awoke in the morning, and second, today was the day she'd been waiting for. Today was the day that she and Bruce were leaving Gotham for good**. **

She smiled and turned over but didn't find Bruce on his side of the bed, where she'd expected to find him. She sat up in the bed and looked around, blinking against the sunlight in the room, assuming he was in the shower already but finding her assumption to be wrong when the bedroom door opened and Bruce appeared, carrying what looked to be a tray of food.

"Morning," he grinned somewhat sheepishly, and she realized that he'd actually attempted to make her breakfast in bed today.

"Morning," she smiled as he set the tray in front of her and got back into bed with her. There was a single rose in a small vase at the center of the tray, but besides that, everything else looked rather dreadful - even the toast. She smiled widely and turned her eyes to Bruce.

"It's awful, I know," he said with a shrug. "I tried."

She laughed and picked up a piece of the slightly burnt toast and braved a bite of it. "I can't believe you did this for me."

"What, burned toast and ruined a couple of eggs?"

"You know what I mean."

He shrugged and she put the toast down and put the tray aside before turning her full attention to him. He yawned and she fought the urge to smile, but she didn't fight another urge that began to make itself known.

He looked up at her and found her giving him _that_ look, one that he hadn't seen since before she was stabbed almost two weeks prior. He returned her look with all the enthusiasm of a man who'd been patiently waiting for her energy to return for two weeks, and then she all but pounced on him.

He was taken aback by this, though in a very pleasant way, of course, and as her lips attacked his and her fingers started automatically clawing at his shirt, he smiled and said between kisses, "You must be feeling better."

"Shut up," she groaned, running her fingers through his hair and loving the way it was only about an inch from grazing his shoulders now. "All we've done is talk for the last two weeks, and I am sick of talking."

She grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head, then found herself underneath him as he started on ridding her of her clothing, which at the moment was just one of his shirts that she'd worn to bed the night before. The buttons weren't obeying his fingers in their haste, so he ripped the shirt open and yanked it off of her.

Then his lips were devouring her, reacquainting themselves with her body and covering every inch of flesh that they could before she moved him over and got on top of him.

She tore off his jeans in much the same way that he'd torn off her shirt, and then she was kissing him hard, enjoying the way his hands were almost clumsy as they groped her, as if two weeks had made him forget how to be smooth and in control of himself.

Then she slid down over him and bit her lip to keep from moaning as he filled her, and as she pulled back and sat up straight on top of him, his eyes raked over her for the short period of time he could take not having his hands all over her.

He sat up and she adjusted herself to sit in his lap, placing her legs around him, and then his mouth was on her neck as they started moving together. Her fingers were tangled so deeply in his hair that there would be huge knots left when they were finished, and his hands on her hips were holding her so tightly that she knew she'd bruise, but in between the pain was the pleasure they'd gone without with for the last two weeks, and in between her little gasps and heavy breaths, Selina broke her own rule and pressed her swollen lips to his ear as she breathed, "Let's not go that long ever again."

His agreement came out of his mouth in the form of a grunt, and she gasped again when his head bent down and his lips enclosed around a taut nipple while his fingers teased her other one, all of it making her ride him harder and faster while he started to shake against her the closer he got.

It was the way he was moving within her and the things his voice did to her when it rasped her name into her ear that made her finally lose it, and she came hard, burying her face in his shoulder to keep from disturbing Blake and possibly the neighbors with what would have come out of her mouth otherwise.

When she stopped shaking and her orgasm came to a spectacular end at last, she realized as she lay her head on Bruce's shoulder that he wasn't moving anymore, and that he was now limp against her, spent and breathing hard against her skin. She tried to untangle her fingers from his hair but ripped out a few strands as she did - that was how badly she'd messed up his hair - and suddenly, the smell of badly cooked eggs wafted up from the floor, and she had the overwhelming urge to vomit.

She pulled away from Bruce with a blank look on her face, and just as he opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, she leaned her head over the edge of the bed and threw up.

As soon as she'd thrown up, the nausea left as quickly as it had come, and she straightened back up and looked at Bruce, who looked horrified and confused.

"What was that? Are you okay?"

"I... yeah," she muttered, knitting her eyebrows together and unwinding her legs from around his waist. She then stumbled off the bed and quickly threw on some clothes of hers that we're lying nearby, and as the same smell of eggs hit her nose once more, she felt the nausea return and broke out in a run to the bathroom.

She twisted the knob to the bathroom but found it locked, and with a roll of her eyes she yelled, "I need the bathroom, Blake, get out."

"Hold on a minute," he yelled back.

"I just puked on your floor and I'm about to do it again if you don't get out!"

She heard him curse and then the door open, and he stumbled out of the bathroom half-dressed as she ran inside and threw up again, though in the toilet this time.

Like last time, it was over as quickly as it had began, and with a groan, she flushed the toilet and staggered back up to her feet.

She leaned over the sink and took a deep breath before reaching for her toothbrush and brushing away the traces of her strange sickness, and as she contemplated the things she'd eaten recently and if any of it could be to blame for this, she went about her normal morning routine but came to a standstill when she opened up the medicine cabinet and reached for her bottle of birth control pills.

She froze, bottle in hand, staring at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, trying to remember what day it was.

When she did pinpoint the date in her head, realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

She turned and opened the door with a bang, then walked inside the guest room with wide eyes. Bruce was cleaning up the mess she'd left behind - or was trying to, at least - and when he looked up at her and saw her terrified and bewildered expression, his eyes also went wide. "What?"

She closed the door behind her. "I'm late. And I'm puking."

"You're... late for what?"

"What do you think?!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Are you completely stupid?"

Comprehension then dawned on Bruce. "Oh!"

"_Oh_!" she mocked, falling on to the bed and lowering her head into her hands. "Oh my God... oh my God... oh my God..."

She felt Bruce sit next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, but she shook her head and kept her face buried in her hands as she kept chanting. "Oh my God... oh my God..."

"Selina."

"... Oh my God."

"Selina."

"... my God, oh my God..."

"_Selina_!"

She snapped her head up and gave Bruce a glare that would have withered a lesser man.

"Selina," he said softly, "calm down. We'll get a test and -"

"Calm down?" she repeated incredulously. "Calm down? Can you be a bigger idiot right now, Bruce?"

"Selina -"

"Stop saying that!" she snapped. "Just stop talking!"

"Okay," he muttered, dropping his eyes down and looking utterly at a loss for what to do.

She stared forward and tried to breathe and think, but neither function was coming easily. Finally, after what felt like a very long time, she said, "A test. I need to get a test."

She then stood up and headed out the door, and Bruce followed her, though staying silent as she'd commanded him to.

However, her plan was foiled as soon as they made it out into the living room. Instead of finding the empty room that they'd anticipated merely passing through on their way out, they found Alfred, Leslie, Lucius, Gordon, and of course, Blake, all standing there and apparently waiting for them.

"What's this?" Bruce asked with a half-smile while Selina looked as if she were about to cry.

"Didn't think we'd let you two leave without a proper goodbye, did you?" Alfred asked, and Selina's heart sank further. This was just perfect - the absolute last thing she wanted to do was sit and have a heartwarming goodbye-session with these people, so without so much as a glance to any of them, including Bruce, she headed towards the door.

She heard Bruce and Lucius talking, and a few laughs from Blake, as she reached the door, but just as her hand touched the knob, Leslie's hand enclosed gently upon her arm and her concerned voice entered Selina's ears.

"Is everything okay, dear? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I really need to go," Selina said, shaking off Leslie's hand.

"Selina -"

Selina sighed, about to protest more, but then she looked up at the older woman and had an idea. It instantly seemed preferable to the alternative of walking into a drugstore and physically purchasing a less reliable test than the one Leslie could give her. "Would you mind doing me a favor?"

"Of course I wouldn't mind," Leslie replied. "What do you need?"

Selina glanced back at Bruce, who was shaking Gordon's hand and glancing back nervously at Selina. She then turned back to Leslie and said, "I need a pregnancy test."

"Oh," Leslie said quietly. "all right. Not a problem. Do you want to go now?"

Selina looked behind her one more time, and she could see how clearly Bruce's mind was not on the people who had come to tell him goodbye, but on her and the unknown that was hanging over their heads. She thought about waiting for him, knowing how he'd want to be there when she took the test, but she simply couldn't wait. She had to know as soon as possible.

"Yes."

Leslie nodded, and Selina chanced one more glance at Bruce before she walked out the door. Their eyes met and she instantly saw hurt flicker across his face, but she buried the guilt that rose up in her in response, and left with Leslie.

* * *

Selina shifted nervously in the chair inside what was by now a very familiar exam room in Leslie's clinic, and she could barely hear the words coming out of the doctor's mouth.

"The test takes five minutes," Leslie explained after Selina handed her a urine sample. "I'll go get it started now. You all right?"

Selina nodded, staring forward and nervously drumming her fingers on her leg. Leslie noted this and reached out a hand to Selina's shoulder as she said, "Everything's going to be fine, dear."

Selina didn't look up until Leslie had left the room and closed the door behind her. Her mind was racing and her heart was pounding - talking about a possible pregnancy was one thing, but actually facing the prospect of one and having all of your instincts screaming at you that this was no mere scare and that the deed was done was another thing entirely.

Two long, agonizing minutes after Leslie had gone, Selina heard Bruce's unmistakable voice on the other side of the door, arguing with a feminine voice, and Selina experienced an odd flashback to last year, when she'd heard Bruce arguing similarly with Holly outside of her Old Town apartment. That was when he'd come to ask her for her help in finding Bane, before she'd known who Batman really was, and as odd of a memory that it was to be thinking about now, Selina was suddenly struck by how fast they'd gone from where they were then to where they were now - lovers, partners, soon to be co-inhabitants of an island he'd bought for them, and possibly parents.

She was nearly hyperventilating when Bruce burst through the door, ignoring the protests of the nurse he'd been arguing with, and when their eyes met, Selina's panic doubled.

The nurse threw her hands up in the air and walked away, and Bruce closed the door. "Did you already have the test?"

"We'll have the results in three minutes," she muttered, looking down at her feet. She kept her eyes down as he made his way around the room and sat down in the chair next to hers, and she didn't move when one of his hands tentatively reached out and took one of hers.

"We're in this together, Selina," he said gently, leaning forward and looking into her averted eyes. "No matter what the result is. You don't have to run away and deal with things alone anymore." He paused before adding quietly, "I thought we'd gotten past that."

She finally raised her eyes and retorted, "You have no idea what's going through my head right now."

"So tell me," he replied gently.

She looked away again, not wanting to tell him anything but knowing that things were different now, very different, and she had to adapt to how much their relationship had grown and changed. "I'm scared that if I am... pregnant... that it's way too fast." She paused and tried to draw in a breath that wouldn't come. "We're already moving so fast - the island, just everything - and I know I'm not cut out for this."

"What if you are?"

She wearily met his eyes. "I'm not."

Then the door opened, and Leslie stepped inside. Both Bruce and Selina quickly turned their full attentions to the doctor. "Oh good," Leslie smiled, "you made it, Mr. Wayne."

Leslie rolled out a small stool and set it front of the wide-eyed pair and eased down on it as she said, "Well, I won't keep you waiting. Congratulations - it's positive."

Selina couldn't say that she was shocked, because her shock had already come earlier that morning when she'd realized that her period was late after throwing up twice, but that didn't stop her from going into shock. Her vision suddenly became tunnel-like, narrow and suddenly dizzying, and when she felt Bruce's hand take her own, she looked up into his eyes without seeing them.

It took a moment before she could comprehend what she was looking at, but when she did, part of the ice that had been shoved into her chest at the confirmation of her fear melted away. Bruce's eyes were soft, like the rest of his face, and he was smiling a tiny smile that reached the corners of his eyes and made the skin there crinkle - one of his genuine, heart-stopping smiles that he didn't give away often. And swimming in the darkness of the pools in his eyes were tears that he wasn't shedding and would not shed, but their presence was enough to shake Selina out of her shock and bring her back to reality - partially, anyway, but not enough to allow her to hear Leslie talking about how remarkable it was that after Selina's most recent injury she'd been able to sustain a pregnancy despite the blood loss and trauma she'd suffered.

Suddenly she heard the door close and she realized that they were alone again as Bruce gently touched her face with a suddenly shaky hand. "Selina?"

His voice and his touch were as soft as his eyes, and though she could tell that he was trying not to smile, the grin simply wouldn't leave his face. He was ecstatic at the news, but she also knew that he was terrified of her reaction being the opposite of his.

And right now, she couldn't have even told him whether that fear was justified or not.

"Selina..."

Both hands were on her face now, cradling it, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "It's all right, Selina. We're gonna figure this out together. We're... we're _having a baby_."

The awe in his voice forced her to look up at him once again, finally, and he laughed. He looked completely different from anytime previously - somehow, right now, in this moment, he looked _young_. Young, excited, happy. So happy that it was contagious, like she could feel it radiating off of him and encircling around her in waves of an emotion that she was too scared to feel right now.

It _was_ too fast. It was all too fast, and it had been from the beginning. This was only the natural next step for them, she supposed - plunge into something that logically should wait a bit, or a lot, and then deal with the consequences later. That seemed to be their style.

She'd never been one to shy away from a risk. And this was one hell of a risk.

"We're having a baby," she repeated in a mutter, not matching Bruce's wonder or excitement, but by the way his eyes lit up at her words, it seemed as if she had.

Then he pulled her into his arms and was holding her tight, and she held on to him just as closely, closing her eyes and reaching in her mind for that feeling of being anchored that he gave her without even knowing that he did, and to her relief, she found it. She clung to the feeling to keep from blowing away in the face of the fear that she knew wouldn't go anywhere any time soon, but in this moment, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could do this.

Maybe.

Then Bruce pulled his head back and was kissing her softly, and her fingers found the ends of his hair like they always did, and when his lips left hers and his forehead rested upon hers, one of his hands moved down over her belly and lingered there. His eyes rose and met hers, and his smile widened sweetly.

She smiled back, though not nearly as widely, and placed one of her hands over his. It was hard to believe that right now, underneath their hands and tucked away safely inside of her was a little person at its most vulnerable, delicate stage of development, and it was even harder to believe that in a matter of months this little creature would be crying in their arms, the result of the craziest, most dangerous, most satisfying, best relationship of either of their lives.

He didn't move his hand from her belly as he looked deeply into her eyes and said, "I love you so much."

She hadn't said the words since the Joker's attack, so it still felt like speaking a foreign language, but Selina knew that she meant every last syllable of her next words, perhaps now more than ever.

"I love you too."

* * *

Bruce had managed to hold it together until this moment, and he'd known that this would be his unravelling. His eyes began filling up with tears the moment that his words reached Alfred's ears, and when the older man's expression became one of utterly palpable joy, Bruce stopped trying to fight the emotions.

Alfred had pulled him into a hug so quickly and so tightly that he'd managed to take Bruce by surprise, which was not an easy feat. Alfred didn't say a word, and neither did Bruce, until Alfred pulled away and Bruce saw the tears shimmering down his face.

"I've never been happier for you, sir," Alfred said in a slightly shaking voice. "I don't think I can even... express... how long I've wanted this for you."

Bruce nodded, knowing that "this" referred to much more than the new baby - it encompassed Selina, the final end of Batman, and the end of the enemy that had dogged him for years. This new life was the symbol of it all, the mark of a desperately needed new chapter in the life of Bruce Wayne, one that Alfred had been praying for for years.

"I guess you're going to be a grandfather now," Bruce said, and a fresh wave of emotion overcame both men.

Selina watched from across the living room, finding the happiness dripping from the two men to be infectious, and when Leslie's hand came upon her shoulder, Selina managed a smile for the older woman.

"How are you doing?"

"I'll be all right," Selina nodded. "Once the shock wears off all the way I might be able to breathe again."

Leslie smiled gently. "You're going to be a great mother, Selina. You might not think so, but you will. Your mother would be so proud of you and the person you've become."

Selina smiled and sighed as Leslie embraced her lightly, wishing that her mother were here and available to answer the multitude of questions about the upcoming journey racing through Selina's mind. She knew nothing of pregnancy and babies, and other than avoiding alcohol during pregnancy, she had no idea what to even do for the next nine months.

As if reading her mind, Leslie pulled away and said, "Make sure and find a good prenatal vitamin and start taking it as soon as possible. Make an appointment with an OB/GYN this week after you settle in, don't put it off. Take it easy on caffeine, don't drink. Drink as much water as you can handle. And enjoy yourself. Be happy. You're going to have a wonderful life and a wonderful family."

Family, Selina thought as she smiled at the doctor. She hadn't known what it was like to have one of those for most of her life. She turned her head and her eyes locked with Bruce's across the room, and he gave her a smile that made her chest tingle.

He looked at her differently now, she noticed. Now there was reverence in his eyes, like he was awed just to look at her. He'd always looked at her in ways that nobody had before, from the most unbearably tender gazes to ones that held so much raw hunger that she'd forget how to breathe, but this was entirely new.

The moment ended when Blake walked into the room, his car keys dangling in his hands and voice obliviously light as he said, "You guys ready to go?"

Selina checked the phone in her pocket for the time, and she was surprised to see how quickly the morning and part of the afternoon had gone. Bruce had told her that they needed to leave by noon, and it was now nearly one.

"Yeah, I'll go get our things," Bruce muttered, walking out of the room and down the hall towards the guest bedroom, and Blake, who did not know of the momentous news, glanced around the room before narrowing his eyes slightly at Selina.

"You look like hell."

She rolled her eyes. "Very thoughtful. Thanks for letting me know."

"You sick or something? The whole puking thing -"

"I'm pregnant, genius."

Blake's eyes widened almost comically as Bruce re-entered the room, dragging his and Selina's belongings behind him.

"You -" He wheeled around and looked at Bruce, "She -"

Bruce grinned. "Yeah."

He then walked past Blake and headed for the door, leaving the younger man to grope helplessly for the right thing to say to the woman he'd just insulted. "Well - congratulations. And I'm sorry about the - what I said. I was just being a smart ass. You kind of have a glow, actually."

"Oh, go to hell," Selina groaned, and Blake immediately nodded and looked away, clearly feeling like a total idiot.

So when Selina walked up to him and suddenly gave him a hug, it was quite literally the very last thing Blake would have expected her to do. His arms hung at his side for a moment before he returned the embrace awkwardly, and Selina said quietly, "Thank you for everything you've done for us."

"You're welcome," he said in a tone that was a little too surprised as Selina pulled away.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't look so shocked, Boy Wonder."

"'_Boy Wonder_'? Where do you get these names from? I'm thirty one years old!"

"I wouldn't call you ridiculous things if you didn't let it bother you so much," Selina grinned as Bruce reappeared in the apartment.

"Alfred, Leslie," Bruce said, closing the door behind him as all eyes fell on him, "there's one more thing I have to tell you two before we go. I'm actually having two houses built on the island - one for Selina and myself, and one for you guys. You can use it as a vacation home, use it as little or as much as you want, but I hope we see a lot of both of you."

Alfred didn't look surprised, but Leslie looked flabbergasted. "Oh, Mr. Wayne -

"Bruce," he smiled as the doctor walked up to him and embraced him. Selina watched with a smile, and glanced at Blake when he leaned into mutter something to her.

"Why don't I get a house on the island?"

"Can't clean up the streets of Gotham from the Bahamas," Selina replied with a grin that Blake rolled his eyes at.

After the hugs and the thanks had all been exhausted, Bruce and Selina finally left the apartment, following Blake to his car and getting in the backseat as they had when he'd picked them up for the first time not too long ago, when this last chapter in Gotham was just beginning. Now it was closing, and though their hands stayed joined in the space between them, both Selina's and Bruce's eyes stayed on the city as it passed outside of the windows.

Selina hoped that Bruce was as relieved as she was to leave Gotham as she was, and she wasn't sure until she got her answer at a red light that stopped them when they'd nearly reached their destination. Bruce's hand lightly squeezed hers and she looked over to find him smiling warmly at her, that spark of joy still in his eye and not a trace of regret anywhere on his face.

She still couldn't muster up the same sort of energy that he was quietly projecting all around him, and she hadn't decided yet if she was going to panic some more about the pregnancy or try to hold it together and press on. But, what she did know beyond a shadow of a doubt was that she loved to see Bruce this happy, and he deserved it more than anyone she'd ever known.

And when he looked at her in that sweet, awestruck way, she could almost believe that maybe she was cut out for this, after all.

Rather than driving them to Gotham International Airport, Blake drove them to a private airfield that was empty but for one large aircraft that Selina instantly realized was the one that would be whisking them away to their island paradise.

He parked directly in front of the plane on the runway, and Selina said quietly, "I didn't know we were flying private."

"It's a long flight," Bruce replied. "And this plane has seats that convert into beds."

Selina raised an eyebrow. "You're spoiling me, Bruce."

"That's the idea," he grinned, opening the door and stepping out of the car as she did the same.

A single, smiling flight attendant walked down the small staircase that bridged the plane to the ground and retrieved the luggage from Bruce, and Selina watched as the two men in front of her shook hands and said their goodbyes.

"Sorry about the black eyes," Bruce half-smiled. "And that," he added, gesturing to the mark that was lingering on Blake's jaw from when Bruce had whacked Selina's gun clean across his face.

"Occupational hazard, I guess," Blake shrugged. "Stay in touch, alright?"

Bruce nodded. "Your training's not over yet, so when you've got some time, call me and I'll send the jet and we can pick up where we left off."

Blake nodded slightly and then muttered flatly, "Can't wait."

Selina then heard the pilot call out something in a language she didn't immediately recognize, and Bruce reached out and took her hand. "Good luck, John."

Blake nodded to the older man and said, "You too. Congrats again."

Bruce smiled and Selina gave Blake a parting nod as they turned and headed towards the stairs. Bruce had her walk in front of him as they ascended into the plane, his hand protective as it lay on her back, and when she stepped inside the aircraft, she knew she wouldn't mind the long journey ahead of them.

The plane reeked of filthy rich, and it was a scent she doubted she'd ever grow tired of. It was huge, spacious enough to handle quite a capacity of passengers, and as Bruce led her to their seats in the plane's middle, she felt herself growing excited as it finally sunk in that she was leaving Gotham for good.

She took a seat next to a window and Bruce took the one beside her, and as the plane's engines hummed to life around them, Selina turned to Bruce and said, "I can't believe we made it here."

She meant it, too - she didn't know what was more shocking, the fact that their relationship had survived it all and even reached a level she hadn't dreamed of, or that they were both alive after their horrific battles with the Joker.

"I can't either," he admitted softly, his eyes soft as they looked into hers. Then his eyebrows furrowed briefly as he paused and then said, "There's something I want to ask you."

She nodded and felt the plane start to taxi as she waited for him to speak.

"Do you want this?" he asked, his eyes flickering to her belly and then back to her eyes. "Are you... unhappy, or..."

"I'm fine, Bruce," she quickly assured him. "I'm just shocked. And scared."

"I'm scared, too," he admitted.

She paused and then said, "I'm sorry I ruined your goodbye thing earlier. I just... I don't know, I was freaking out."

"You didn't ruin anything," Bruce replied gently. "I appreciated what they all did but my mind was nowhere near it... that's why I followed you to the clinic. They understood, and we all got to say our goodbyes."

Selina nodded and glanced out the window as they prepared to take off, but Bruce's fingers gently reached out to her chin and guided her face back to his, and then his lips were on hers, soft and firm at the same time, a taste of many more kisses that were to come.

A thought occurred to Selina as he pulled away just a little bit and looked up into her eyes, and as his fingers threaded with her own and his other hand played with her short hair, she said, "You do realize that this kid was conceived in the Batcave."

Apparently, he hadn't quite realized that. He paused for a moment, eyes wandering as he thought back, and when she grinned, he grinned back. "Yeah, I guess it was."

She shook her head slightly. "As if being half me and half you won't make them enough of a nightmare, the Batcave had to get thrown in for good measure."

Bruce smiled and then said, "I guess now would be a good time to tell you that the name of the island I bought is Cat's Cay."

Selina grinned. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "The name caught my eye when I was looking, and it turned out to be perfect."

As Selina smiled at Bruce, the plane stilled for a moment before beginning takeoff. Selina stared out the window and watched the city slowly shrink away as they ascended into the air, and after a moment, she turned to Bruce and asked, "How long is this flight?"

"Long," he replied.

"Well," she sighed, giving Bruce a suggestive look, "at least we're good at finding ways to pass the time."

"We're good at a lot of things," he replied.

She had to agree, and she hoped that parenting would end up being one of those things. Then she shook her head, still finding the idea to be utterly absurd.

Another glance at Bruce and she almost blushed, taken aback by the way that he was looking at her but returning the look without missing a beat.

Then his lips were on her neck and his hands roamed as she closed her eyes, letting him calm her nerves and turn off her mind, though she did chance one more glance at the slowly disappearing city of Gotham outside of the window.

One journey over, and one just beginning, she mused. She sighed and closed her eyes, burying her fingers in Bruce's hair as he kissed down her throat, trying to let go of the fear hanging over her mind and simply adapt, like she always did when life took unexpected twists and turns.

The pilot's voice wafted over the intercom, still in the unfamiliar language, and Selina asked, "What did he say?"

Bruce paused and lifted his head as he replied, "He said we're leaving Gotham right now."

Selina grinned, and so did Bruce. "I'm not ever letting you come back here, just so you know."

"Good," he replied.

Then he kissed her again as he reached down and unbuckled her seatbelt, though technically they were still a few thousand feet from being cleared to do so, but she didn't protest. He brought her closer and she felt herself overheating quickly, as four simple, dual-meaning words floated through her head.

_And here... we... go_.


	25. Epilogue

**A/N: ... Omg. Epilogue time! I can't believe this story's over! (I can't believe I actually finished a story!) But, of course, in reality, it's only just begun! Sequel is coming soon, and the the title will be _A Harbor In The Tempest_, so keep an eye out for that :D it's going to be a decently long story and there will be actual plot too, and of course, tons of the stuff that makes us all love BatCat so much. Now this is where I sit here and blubber about how much I love everyone who's read and/or reviewed this story, because right now it's very close to hitting 500 reviews, and I've never written anything so well-received before, so THANK YOU, all of you! (special thanks to ehecatl for your last review - and all of your past ones as well. You always make my day with your amazing words! :D) And I have to thank midnightwings96 for helping me so much with the plot of this story, giving me amazing ideas, and reading over chapters before I posted and just generally being freaking amazing. This last month has been difficult for me, to say the least, but writing and getting to read everyone's feedback has made things just a little bit easier and a bit more bearable. So again, thank you guys so much, I love you all, and look out for the sequel! :D you're all amazing!**

Selina took a deep breath of fresh, humid air as she stepped out on to the deck of the house Bruce had rented for them to stay in while their house on Cat's Cay was being built, and she wondered if she'd ever get used to the place that she was now calling home**. **

Where Gotham was cold and hard, industrial and bustling, this place was warm and laid-back, friendly and utterly foreign to her. They were staying on a slightly larger island than the one Bruce now owned, one that was only a ten minute boating excursion away from Cat's Cay, and as much as she loved the rental house with all of its considerable luxuries, she hadn't been spending much time indoors since they'd arrived seven days earlier. The palm trees and sandy beaches put her mind at ease when she was near them, and though the air was so thick with moisture that she felt like her lungs were swimming every time she walked outside, she found that she quite liked it. It wasn't polluted, oppressive air like in Gotham. Nothing here was like Gotham, and that was one of the reasons why she loved it so much.

Dressed blissfuly simply in shorts and a black tank, she walked briskly down from the deck and kicked off her sandals as her toes sank into the sand. Her eyes became fixed on the rolling waves as they crashed on to the beach that sat in the backyard, and it was all still so breathtaking that she momentarily forgot about the small roll of photos in her hand.

It was early evening, and the sun was getting lower in the cloudless sky as the heat of the day thankfully waned a bit. A breeze blew through the branches of the palm trees that lined the house, combining with the sound of the waves to give Selina the sort of soundtrack she'd always dreamed about as she sat down at the beach's edge, letting the water rise and fall over her feet as her eyes drank in the island beauty around her.

It was after a few moments that she glanced down and remembered what she held in her hand. Her expression was neutral as she unfolded the little roll of three photos, but a smile crossed her face as she looked down upon their contents.

They were ultrasound photos that had been taken at her new doctor's office on the not too terribly far away island of Nassau, and they showed a perfect little shrimp of a baby nestled in her womb with the fluttering heartbeat of a champ. She ran her finger over the outline of the forming child, amazed by how small and yet how strong this baby already was, having survived quite a bit already in its extraordinarily short life.

She thought back to the ultrasound, of lying there on the exam table while the doctor had performed the scan, Bruce by her side and holding her hand as they laid eyes for the first time upon the child they'd created. She'd expected to feel fear, which she had been feeling a lot of lately, or worse, more panic, but instead, she'd felt... _warm_. Incredibly warm.

Then the sound of the furiously ticking heartbeat had filled the room, and she'd looked at Bruce then. His smile was infectious, and she couldn't help but grin along with him. For all the fear and the unknowns, the possibilities that plagued her anxious mind every day, that moment had been one that was truly something. The baby was real now, not just an abstract concept confirmed by a doctor's test - it was a living thing, with a heartbeat and a delicately forming body.

It was _her_ baby, she thought as she continued staring at the photos. And she knew that this was when the true fear would start to take hold - the moment she allowed herself to become attached to the child, that's when she'd be screwed.

The problem was, she had a sneaking suspicion that this kid had stolen her heart the second she heard its tiny one beating in that exam room. And that may have been the single most terrifying thing she'd ever experienced in her life.

She could feel her mind going off into places she'd been trying to avoid, dark places where she stashed her worst fears and deepest insecurities, and she didn't think she could stop it this time.

But just as she felt herself sinking into her doubts about herself as a mother and all the different ways in which she could permanently screw up the kid and alienate Bruce in the process, a voice wafted through the air and pulled her back into reality.

He always had the knack for pulling her back from the edge and back into safety, and half the time, he didn't even know that he was doing it.

"Thought I'd find you out here."

She rolled the photos back up, pretending she hadn't been staring at them for the last unknown number of moments, but she knew he'd see through her ruse. She didn't know why she was bothering to try to hide it at all, but for some reason, it was her automatic impulse.

He settled down next to her in the sand, and as she glanced at him, her stubbornly disobedient heart fluttered. He was no longer merely the only man she'd ever allowed herself to fall in love with, and the one who loved her so much that he'd given her not just the world, but _his_ world and his life, but he was now also the father of her child. And somehow, that made him even sexier in her eyes now, and that was saying something.

He was dressed casually, a white t shirt and khaki shorts, and his long, dark hair was tied back at the nape of his neck. This was a new look for him, but one that suited him well, she thought. Even though she knew full well that underneath this new laid-back exterior lay a man struggling with his own fear of what was to come, of being a failure and not knowing how to raise a child to be a decently functioning adult.

She also knew he was still struggling with what he'd done weeks ago in Gotham, when he nearly became everything he stood against, and she suspected that only time would change that.

His eyes flickered down from hers to the pictures in her hands, and quietly he asked, "Can I see those again?"

"Of course," she replied, handing him the photos and watching as his eyes softened at the sight of the baby's image.

"It's still hard to believe," he said softly, staring intently at the pictures. "After all this time, after everything... I didn't think I'd ever get the chance to be a father. I didn't think I'd even be alive at this point, let alone have all of this."

He said "all of this" in that new, reverent way of his, and she knew he didn't mean the island or the house, or the yacht he was talking about purchasing for them soon. He considered himself a rich man now indeed, but it had nothing to do with his financial wealth.

"You never did tell me how you survived that nuclear bomb," Selina said, watching his eyes darken just slightly at her words.

"Yeah I did," he replied.

"Besides the autopilot," she said. "I mean, you had seconds to spare. I don't understand how you didn't get incinerated even with bailing out." She then paused and added, "And while we're talking about it, I don't understand why you told me there was no autopilot as you were leaving."

He lowered the photos along with his hands into his lap, and he looked out into the horizon as she waited for an answer. She understood his discomfort. There were things she would still prefer to not discuss with him, and keep to herself, but they were beyond secrets now, whether they liked it or not.

"Did you want to die?" she asked quietly.

"I'd been dead for eight years, Selina," he half-whispered.

She paused, not surprised by his answer. "So what changed your mind?"

He kept his eyes on the horizon as he paused. "Alfred told me last year, before I brought Batman back, that he wasn't afraid that I'd fail, but that I wanted to fail. And I think he was right. The pit changed things and I... learned a lot. I learned how to save Gotham, but I still didn't know how to save myself. When I knew we couldn't stop the bomb, I thought that was it - this was how I was going to go out, this was the end, and I was okay with that."

"And then what?"

Now he finally turned his eyes on her. "Well... as I was flying over the bay... I realized that I did have something to lose. And that I did want to live."

"You're still not telling me what changed your mind."

"I think you know," Bruce replied softly.

"Maybe I'd just like to hear it."

He looked at her for a moment before answering. "It was two things. The first was when you kissed me. Even though I was walking to my death, literally, you made me feel alive. More alive than I'd felt in years. And the second was Alfred. He deserved better from me."

She let his words settle for a moment before she replied, "Well, then I'm very happy I decided to kiss you."

He let a small grin grace his lips before he said, "It wasn't just that kiss, though. It was everything. Especially after finding out who Miranda was and realizing that though I was wrong about her, I'd always been right about you."

Even after all of this time, her first reaction was still to tell him that he was wrong. She'd done so much in her life, whether it was all out of necessity or not, and her guilt over betraying Bruce to Bane would haunt her until her dying day. In fact, the deeper in love that she fell with him, the stronger that guilt became.

"And if you want to know how I survived," Bruce said, "I'm honestly not sure. I hit the water headfirst and blacked out."

"And you didn't drown?"

"Lucius added a self-launching flotation function to the suit the last time he'd touched it up," Bruce said. "I told him it was unnecessary, but he thought it might come in handy. I woke up and it was dark... cowl was shattered and half my armor had come off... I swam my way back from the bay and I don't remember a lot about that night. Which is why the Joker was able to see me and figure out who I was, I guess."

Bruce fell silent, and Selina did as well. She knew he still had nightmares often, though they weren't as violent as they used to be and he didn't try to sleep away from her anymore, but it still wasn't fair in her eyes. She hated Gotham for what it had done to him.

"So your head hitting the water... do you think that's the injury that caused your... headaches?" she asked cautiously, almost as if saying the word "headache" out loud might cause the horrific ones he used to have to come back.

He shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. My head got thrown around a lot back then."

"But you haven't had anymore headaches since you woke up in the clinic?" Selina asked.

He nodded. "None that I can't handle, anyway."

She nodded and looked out towards the sun as it sank lower in the sky, preparing to set, and after a moment of silence, Bruce asked her something she hadn't quite been expecting. "Have you thought about names yet?"

"Names? You mean -"

"For the baby, yeah," he nodded.

She almost laughed. "The baby" still sounded so utterly strange a term to come out of his mouth. "No, I haven't."

"Well, I had a few ideas."

"Oh?" she grinned.

He smiled. "I know it's early, but I've been tossing some ideas around in my head. Today especially."

"Alright, tell me what you're thinking."

"Well, if it's a girl, I was thinking we could name her after our mothers. Maybe Helena Martha."

The smile that grew on Selina's lips was a genuine one. "Really?"

"Do you like it?"

She nodded, still smiling. She loved it. "It's perfect."

"I think they deserve it," Bruce smiled back. "If it's a boy, I was hoping we could come up with something together."

Selina glanced at the water for a moment before it became obvious in her mind what the logical choice for a boy's name would be. "Thomas Alfred."

Bruce looked surprised, but happy, with her quickly decided-upon choice. She explained, "You're the only good man I've ever known in my life. I don't have a father or brother, or anyone, to name a boy after. And I'm obviously not the type to have a list of names I dreamed up for future babies. So why not name a boy after the two men who had the most influence on you?"

Bruce smiled and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him and kissing her gently. The waves had calmed and the sky was turning brilliant shades of pink and orange as the sun began to set over the water, and she let him move her fully into his arms and leaned her head against his shoulder as his lips left hers.

"How do you feel?" he asked, running a finger slowly up and down her arm.

"Tired," she said, closing her eyes. It had been a long day for her, with a trip to Cat's Cay in the morning and then a trip to Nassau for her doctor's appointment, then back here, and she'd thrown up twice in the course of the day. Between the nausea and exhaustion of early pregnancy, she thought she could go to sleep now, at not even seven o'clock at night, and sleep until noon the next day. "I might fall asleep right here."

He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and said, "Go ahead. I'll carry you inside when it gets dark."

She smiled as she settled in against him, looking up at him with heavy eyes as she said, "I'm getting boring."

He chuckled. "You'll never be boring, Selina."

She felt him shift a little bit under her, and then she felt his fingers place a cool strand of familiar pearls around her neck. "You've had these packed away too long," he said, fastening the clip at the back of her neck.

"I didn't want to lose them or break them while we were moving," she murmured as his fingers swept away some strands of hair from her face. "Bet you didn't think back when you caught me stealing those that you'd end up here with me."

"I don't think you foresaw any of this either," Bruce replied with a small chuckle.

She shrugged slightly, her eyes still closed. "Good thing, too. I would have ran for the hills and you never would have seen me again."

"To be fair, I may have done the same thing at first," Bruce said, smiling against her hair.

"I guess we're both still suckers, then," Selina said, feeling her ability to fight the sleep tugging at her eyelids slip.

He smiled at her words as her breaths became even and she fell asleep in his arms. He looked out into the horizon, watching as light slowly gave way to darkness in the sky but feeling the opposite shift take place in his life for the first time. He was just as scared of the future as Selina was, and he was still on the road to recovery from the horrors he'd seen in his life, but for the first time in a long time, he was happy. And now that he had a family to protect and live for, he wouldn't let anything or anyone, not even himself, come within a mile of compromising that.

The sun slipped just beyond the ocean and left a half moon hanging in its stead, the sky a dark blue as the stars lit it up from far away, and as Bruce swept Selina up into his arms to take her to bed, he felt himself at the closest to peace that he could remember ever being.

Tomorrow, the sun would rise again, and so would he. And thankfully, finally, he no longer dreaded either.


End file.
